8 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 


FLEET    STREET 
ECLOGUES 


BY 

JOHN   DAVIDSON 


NEW   YORK 
DODD,  MEAD   AND   COMPANY 

LONDON 

JOHN   LANE,  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 
l89S 


Copyright,  1895, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY. 


Sntbtrstts 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 3 

ST.  VALENTINE'S  EVE 19 

GOOD  FRIDAY 37 

ST.  GEORGE'S  DAY 49 

MAY  DAY 75 

MIDSUMMER  DAY 91 

ST.  SWITHIN'S  DAY 105 

LAMMAS 121 

MICHAELMAS 159 

ALL  HALLOW'S  EVE 179 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 189 

CHRISTMAS  EVE 209 


20831 70 


NEW  YEAR'S   DAY 


NEW  YEAR'S   DAY 

BASIL  SANDY  BRIAN 

BRIAN 

THIS  trade  that  we  ply  with  the  pen, 
Unworthy  of  heroes  or  men, 
Assorts  ever  less  with  my  humour : 
Mere  tongues  in  the  raiment  of  rumour, 
We  review  and  report  and  invent : 
In  drivel  our  virtue  is  spent. 

BASIL 

From  the  muted  tread  of  the  feet, 
And  the  slackening  wheels,  I  know 
3 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  air  is  hung  with  snow, 
And  carpeted  the  street. 

BRIAN 

Ambition,  and  passion,  and  power 
Come  out  of  the  north  and  the  west, 
Every  year,  every  day,  every  hour, 
Into  Fleet  Street  to  fashion  their  best : 
They  would  shape  what  is  noble  and  wise ; 
They  must  live  by  a  traffic  in  lies. 

BASIL 

Sweet  rivers  of  living  blood 
Poured  into  an  ocean  of  mud. 

BRIAN 

Newspapers  flap  o'er  the  land, 
And  darken  the  face  of  the  sky ; 
4 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

A  covey  of  dragons,  wide-vanned, 
Circle-wise  clanging,  they  fly. 
No  nightingale  sings ;  overhead 
The  lark  never  mounts  to  the  sun ; 
Beauty  and  truth  are  dead, 
And  the  end  of  the  world  begun. 

BASIL 

Far  away  in  a  valley  of  peace, 
Swaddled  in  emerald, 
The  snow-happed  primroses 
Tarry  till  spring  has  called. 

SANDY 

And  here  where  the  Fleet  once  tripped 
In  its  ditch  to  the  drumlie  Thames, 
We  journalists,  haughty  though  hipped, 
Are  calling  our  calling  names. 
5 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BRIAN 

But  you  know,  as  I  know,  that  our  craft 
Is  the  meanest  in  act  and  intention ; 
You  know  that  the  Time-spirit  laughed 
In  his  sleeve  at  the  Dutchman's  invention : 
Old  Coster  of  Haarlem,  I  mean, 
Whose  print  was  the  first  ever  seen. 

BASIL 

I  can  hear  in  that  valley  of  mine, 
Loud-voiced  on  a  leafless  spray, 
How  the  robin  sings,  flushed  with  his  holly 

wine, 
Of  the  moonlight  blossoms  of  May. 

BRIAN 

These  dragons  that  hide  the  sun  ! 
The  serpents  flying  and  fiery, 
6 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

That  knotted  a  nation  in  one 
Writhen  mass :  the  scaly  and  wirey, 
And  flame-breathing  terror  the  saint 
Still  slays  on  our  coins ;  the  thing 
That  wandering  artists  paint 
Where  creaking  sign-boards  swing; 
Gargouille,  famous  in  France, 
That  the  fire  at  Rouen  slew ; 
The  dragon  Petrarca's  lance 
In  Laura's  defence  overthrew; 
The  sea-beast  Perseus  killed ; 
Proserpine's  triple  team ; 
Tarasque  whose  blood  was  spilled 
In  Rhone's  empurpled  stream ; 
For  far-flying  strength  and  ire 
And  venom  might  never  withstand 
The  least  of  the  flourishing  quire 
In  Fleet  Street  stalled  and  the  Strand. 
7 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 
BASIL 

Through  the  opening  gate  of  the  year 
Sunbeams  and  snowdrops  peer. 

BRIAN 

Fed  by  us  here  and  groomed 
In  this  pestilent  reeking  stye, 
These  dragons  I  say  have  doomed 
Religion  and  poetry. 

SANDY 

They  may  doom  till  the  moon  forsakes 
Her  dark,  star-daisied  lawn ; 
They  may  doom  till  doomsday  breaks 
With  angels  to  trumpet  the  dawn ; 
While  love  enchants  the  young, 
And  the  old  have  sorrow  and  care, 
8 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

No  song  shall  be  unsung, 
Unprayed  no  prayer. 

BRIAN 

Leaving  the  dragons  alone  — 
I  say  what  the  prophet  says  — 
The  tyrant  on  the  throne 
Is  the  morning  and  evening  press. 
In  all  the  land  his  spies, 
A  little  folk  but  strong, 
A  second  plague  of  flies, 
Buzz  of  the  right  and  the  wrong ; 
Swarm  in  our  ears  and  our  eyes  — 
News  and  scandal  and  lies. 
Men  stand  upon  the  brink 
Of  a  precipice  every  day ; 
A  drop  of  printer's  ink 
Their  poise  may  overweigh; 
9 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

So  they  think  what  the  papers  think, 

And  do  as  the  papers  say. 

Who  reads  the  daily  press, 

His  soul's  lost  here  and  now; 

Who  writes  for  it  is  less 

Than  the  beast  that  tugs  a  plough. 

BASIL 

Round  happy  household  fires 
I  hear  sweet  voices  sing ; 
And  the  lamb's-wool  of  our  sires, 
Spiced  ale,  is  a  draught  for  a  king. 

SANDY 

Now,  journalist,  perpend. 
You  soil  your  bread  and  butter : 
Shall  guttersnipes  pretend 
To  satirise  the  gutter? 
10 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

Are  parsons  ever  seen 

To  butt  against  the  steeple? 

Brian,  I  fear  you  've  been 

With  very  superior  people. 

We,  the  valour  and  brains  of  the  age, 

The  brilliant,  adventurous  souls, 

No  longer  in  berserkir  rage  — 

BRIAN 
Spare  us  the  berserkir  rage  ! 

SANDY 

Not  I ;  the  phrase  outrolls 
As  freshly  to  me  this  hour, 
As  when  on  my  boyish  sense 
It  struck  like  a  trumpet-blare. 
You  may  cringe  and  cower 
To  critical  pretence ; 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

If  people  will  go  bare 
They  may  count  on  bloody  backs ; 
Cold  are  the  hearts  that  care 
If  a  girl  be  blue-eyed  or  black-eyed ; 
Only  to  souls  of  hacks 
Are  phrases  hackneyed.  — 
When  the  damsel  had  her  bower, 
And  the  lady  kept  her  state, 
The  splendour  and  the  power 
That  made  adventure  great, 
Were  not  more  strong  and  splendid 
Than  the  subtle  might  we  wield ; 
Though  chivalry  be  ended, 
There  are  champions  in  the  field. 
Nor  are  we  warriors  giftless ; 
Deep  magic 's  in  our  stroke ; 
Ours  are  the  shoes  of  swiftness, 
And  ours  the  darkling  cloak ; 

12 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

We  fear  no  golden  charmer; 
We  dread  no  form  of  words; 
We  wear  enchanted  armour ; 
We  \vield  enchanted  swords. 
To  us  the  hour  belongs ; 
Our  daily  victory  is 
O'er  hydras,  giant  wrongs, 
And  dwarf  iniquities. 
We  also  may  behold, 
Before  our  boys  are  old, 
When  time  shall  have  unfurled 
His  heavy  hanging  mists, 
How  the  future  of  the  world 
Was  shaped  by  journalists. 

BASIL 

Sing  hey  for  the  journalist ! 
He  is  your  true  soldado ; 
13 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Both  time  and  chance  he  '11  lead  a  dance, 
And  find  out  Eldorado. 

BRIAN 
Sing  hey  for  Eldorado  ! 

BASIL 
A  catch,  a  catch,  we  '11  trowl ! 

BRIAN 
Sing  hey  for  Eldorado  ! 

SANDY 

And  bring  a  mazer-bowl, 
With  ale  a-frothing  brimmed. 

BRIAN 

We  may  not  rest  without  it. 
14 


NEW  YEAR'S  DAY 

SANDY 

With  dainty  ribbons  trimmed, 
And  love-birds  carved  about  it. 

BASIL 

With  roasted  apples  scented, 
And  spiced  with  cloves  and  mace. 

BRIAN 
Praise  him  who  ale  invented  ! 

SANDY 
In  heaven  he  has  a  place  ! 

BASIL 

Such  a  camarado 
Heaven's  hostel  never  missed  ! 

BRIAN 
Sing  hey  for  Eldorado  ! 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 
Sing  ho  for  the  journalist ! 

BASIL 

We  drink  them  and  we  sing  them 
In  mighty  humming  ale. 

BRIAN 
May  fate  together  bring  them  ! 

SANDY 
Amen! 

BASIL 

Waas  hael ! 

BRIAN 

Drinc  hael ! 


16 


ST  VALENTINE'S   EVE 


ST  VALENTINE'S   EVE 

MENZIES  PERCY 

PERCY 

A-MOPING  always,  journalist?    For  shame  ! 
Though  this  be  Lent  no  journalist  need 

mope: 

The  blazing  Candlemas  was  foul  and  wet ; 
We  shall  be  happy  yet : 
Sweethearts  and  crocuses  together  ope. 

MENZIES 
Assail,  console  me  not  in  jest  or  trope : 

Give  me  your  golden  silence ;  or  if  speech 
Must  wake   a    ripple  on    the    stagnant 
gloom 

'9 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Of  this  lamp-darkened  room, 
Speak  blasphemy,  and  let  the  mandrake 
screech. 

PERCY 
Dread  words  —  'tis  Ercles'  vein  —  and  fit 

to  teach 

The  mandrake's  self  new  ecstasies  of  woe, 
Have  passed  my  lips  in  blame  of  God 

and  man. 

Now  surely  nothing  can 
Constrain  my  soul  serene  to  riot  so. 

MENZIES 

But  you  are  old ;  the  tide  of  life  is  low ; 
No  wind  can  raise  a  tempest  in  a  cup : 
Easy  it  is  for  withered  nerves  and  veins, 
Parched  hearts  and  barren  brains 
To  be  serene  and  give  life's  question  up. 
20 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

PERCY 
Although  no  longer  chamber-doors  I  dup 

For  willing  maids  (that  never  conquered 

me); 
Though  unimpassioned  be  my  tranquil 

mind, 

And  all  my  force  declined, 
My  quenchless  soul  confronts  its  destiny.  — 
But  tell  me  now  what  ghastly  misery 

Peeps  from  the  shadowy  cupboard  of  your 

eye? 
This  chastened  month  in  white  and  gold 

is  dressed, 

Lilies  and  snowdrops  blessed : 
Be  shriven  by  me  as  you  were  now  to  die ; 
Shrove-tide  is  come. 
21 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

Confessions  purify. 

My  skeletons  I  will  uncupboard  straight : 
And  if  you  think  me  pitiful  and  weak, 
I  pray  you  do  not  speak, 
But  go  and  leave  me  lonely  with  my  fate.  — 
My  daily  toil  has  irked  me  much  of  late : 

Of  books  that  never  will  be  read  I  write 
What,  save  the  anxious  authors,  no  one 

reads, 

And  chronicle  the  deeds 
Of  Fashion,  Crime,  and  Council,  day  and 

night. 
Once  in  a  quarter  when  my  heart  is  light 

I  write  a  poem  in  a  weekly  sheet, 

To  lie  in  clubs  on  tables  crowned  with 

baize, 

22 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

Immortal  for  seven  days : 
This  is  the  life  my  echoing  years  repeat. 

PERCY 
The  very  round  my  aged  steps  still  beat ! 

MENZIES 

And    brooding    thus    on    my    ephemeral 

flowers 
That    smoulder    in    the    wilderness,    I 

thought, 

By  envy  sore  distraught, 
Of  amaranths  that  burn  in  lordly  bowers, 
Of  men  divinely  blessed  with  leisured  hours, 

And  all  the  savage  in  my  blood  was  roused. 
I  cursed  the  father  who  begot  me  poor, 
The  patient  womb  that  bore 
23 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Me,  last  often,  ill-fed,  ill-clad,  ill-housed; 
I    cursed    the    barren    common    where    I 
browsed 


And  sickened  on  the  arid  mental  fare 
The  state  has  sown  broad-cast ;  I  cursed 

the  strain 

Whence  sprang  my  blood  and  brain 
Frugal  and  dry ;  I  cursed  myself  the  heir 
Of  dreadful  things  that  met  me  everywhere : 

Of  uncouth  nauseous  vennels,  smoky  skies ; 
A  chill  and  watery  clime ;  a  thrifty  race, 
Using  all  means  of  grace 
To  save  their  souls  and  purses;  lingering 

lies, 

Remnants  of  creeds  and  tags  of  party  cries  — 
24 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

Scarecrows  and  rattles ;  then  I  cursed  this 

flesh, 
Which  must  be  daily  served  with  meat 

and  drink, 

Which  will  not  let  me  think, 
But  holds  me  prisoner  in  the  sexual  mesh ; 
I  cursed  all  being,  and  began  afresh  — 

My  education  and  my  geniture, 

Which  keep  me  running  always  from  the 
goal, 

Or  stranded  on  Time's  shoal  — 
In  naked  speech,  a  sixpenny  reviewer, 
A  hungry  parasite  of  literature. 

PERCY 

No  reasoning  can  meet  so  fierce  a  mood. 
I  '11  tell  you  of  a  journalist  instead, 
These  many  winters  dead, 
25 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Who  out  of  evil  could  distil  the  good. 
He  found  his  lot  untamable  and  rude, 

And  sometimes  ate  what  beggars  had  dis- 
dained 

Left  at  the  donor's  door.    Once  on  a  time 
A  wanton  youthful  rhyme 
I  read  him  with  my  tears  and  heart's  blood 

stained, 
Wherein  of  Fate  I  bitterly  complained. 

He  praised  my  rhymes  ;  then  said,  'The 

Poet's  name 
Is   overhallowed ;    and   the  Statesman's 

praise 

Unearned  ;   unearned  the  bays 
That   crown  the  Warrior;  Beauty,  Art,  I 

blame 

For  love  alone  deserves  the  meed  of  fame.' 
26 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

MENZIES 
I  understand  you  not. 

PERCY 

Be  still  and  mark. 

'  And  so,'  he  said, '  though  I  am  faint  and 

old, 

High  in  my  garret  cold  — 
While  on  the  pane  Death's  knuckles  rattle 

stark, 

And  hungry  pangs  keep  sleep  off —  in  the 
dark, 

'  I  think  how  brides  and  bridegrooms,  many 

a  pair, 

With  human  sanction,  or  all  unavouched, 
Together  softly  couched, 
Wonder  and  throb  in  rapture ;  how  the  care 
Of  ways  and  means,  the  thought  of  whiten- 
ing hair, 

27 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

'  Of  trenchant  wrinkles  fade  when  night  has 

set, 
And  many  a  long-wed  man  and  woman 

find 

The  deepest  peace  of  mind, 
Sweet  and  mysterious  to  each  other  yet. 
I  think  that  I  am  still  in  Nature's  debt, 

'  Scorned,  disappointed,  starving,  bankrupt, 
old, 

Because  I  loved  a  lady  in  my  youth, 

And  was  beloved  in  sooth. 
I  think  that  all  the  horrors  ever  told 
Of  tonsured  men  and  women  sable-stoled, 

'  Of   long-drawn    tortures    wrought    with 

subtle  zest, 

Of  war  and  massacre  and  martyrdom, 
Of  slaves  in  Pagan  Rome  — 
28 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

In  Christian  England,  who  begin  to  test 
The  purpose  of  their  state,  to  strike  for  rest 

'  And  time  to  feel  alive  in :  all  the  blight 
Of  pain,  age,  madness,    ravished  inno- 
cence, 

Despair  and  impotence, 
The  lofty  anguish  that  affronts  the  light, 
And  seems  to  fill  the  past  with  utter  night, 

'  Is  but  Love's   needful   shadow  :    though 

the  poles, 
The  spangled  zodiac,  and  the  stars  that 

beat 

In  heaven's  high  Watling  Street 
Their  myriad   rounds  ;  though  every  orb 

that  rolls 

Lighting  or  lit,  were  filled   with   tortured 
souls, 

29 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

1  If  one  man  and  one  woman,  heart  and  brain 
Entranced  above  all  fear,  above  all  doubt, 
Might  wring  their  essence  out, 
The  groaning  of  a  universe  in  pain 
Were  as  an  undersong  in  Love's  refrain. 

'  Then  in  a  vision  holy  Time  I  see 

As  one  sweet  bridal  night,  Earth  softly 

spread 

One  fragrant  bridal  bed, 
And  all  my  unrest  leaves  me  utterly : 
I  sometimes  feel  almost  that  God  may  be.' 

MENZIES 
You  touch  me  not.     I,  stretched  upon  the 

rack 
Of  consciousness,  still  curse.  Woman  and 

love? 

I  would  be  throned  above 
3° 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

Humanity.     Yet  were  I  God,  alack ! 
I  think  that  I  should  want  my  manhood 
back, 

Hating  and  loving  limits  — 

PERCY 

Ah !  I  know 

How  ill  you  are.    You  shall  to-morrow  do 
What  I  now  order  you. 
At  early  dawn  through  London  you  must  go 
Until  you  come  where  long  black  hedge- 
rows grow, 

With  pink  buds  pearled,  with  here  and  there 

a  tree, 
And  gates  and  stiles;  and  watch  good 

country  folk ; 

And  scent  the  spicy  smoke 
31 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Of  withered  weeds  that  burn  where  gardens 

be; 
And  in  a  ditch  perhaps  a  primrose  see. 

The  rooks  shall    stalk   the   plough,  larks 

mount  the  skies, 
Blackbirds  and  speckled  thrushes  sing 

aloud, 

Hid  in  the  warm  white  cloud 
Mantling  the  thorn,  and  far  away  shall  rise 
The  milky  low  of  cows  and  farmyard  cries. 

From  windy  heavens  the  climbing  sun  shall 

shine, 

And  February  greet  you  like  a  maid 
In  russet-cloak  arrayed ; 
And  you  shall  take  her  for  your  mistress  fine, 
And  pluck  a  crocus  for  her  valentine. 
32 


ST  VALENTINE'S  EVE 

MENZIES 

In   russet-cloak    arrayed   with    homespun 

smock 
And  apple  cheeks. 

PERCY 

I  pray  you  do  not  mock. 

MENZIES 

I  mock  not,  I  shall  see  earth  and  be  glad : 
London  's  a  darksome  cell  where  men  go 
mad. 


33 


GOOD-FRIDAY 


35 


GOOD-FRIDAY 

BASIL  SANDY  BRIAN  MENZIES 

SANDY 
PFFF  !  journalists ;   the  wind  blows  snell ! 

BRIAN 
To-day  we  freeze,  to-morrow  fry. 

BASIL 

And  yesterday  the  black  rain  fell 
In  sheets  from  London's  smoky  sky, 

Like  water  through  a  dirty  sieve. 
37 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

March  many  weathers,  as  they  say, 
In  country  nooks  where  proverbs  live, 
And  folk  distinguish  night  from  day. 

SANDY 
Well,  we  shall  make  a  day  of  night : 

Behold  with  gules  and  or  a  fire 
Emblazoned,  and  a  mellow  light ; 

And  things  that  journalists  require. 

So  let  us  open  out  our  lore, 

And  chat  as  snugly  as  the  dead ; 

And  damned  be  those  who  came  before, 
And  all  our  brilliant  sayings  said. 

BRIAN 

I  love  not  brilliance ;  give  me  words 
Of  meadow-growth  and  garden  plot, 
38 


GOOD-FRIDA  Y 

Of  larks  and  blackcaps ;  gaudy  birds, 
Gay  flowers  and  jewels  like  me  not. 

BASIL 

The  age-end  journalist  it  seems 

Can  change  his  spots  and  turn  his  dress, 
For  you  are  he  whose  copy  teems 

With  paradox  and  preciousness. 

BRIAN 
Last  night  I  watched  the  evening  star 

Outshine  the  moon  it  so  excelled ; 
And  since  my  thought  has  been  afar 

With  deep  and  simple  things  of  eld. 

I  heard  in  Fleet  Street  all  the  day, 

While  traffic  rolled  and  bells  were  rung, 

The  sombre,  wailing  Tenebrae, 
The  Sistine  Miserere  sung. 
39 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

I  saw  great  people  make  their  Maunds ; 

The  prelate  leave  his  lofty  seat; 
A  kaiser  break  imperial  bonds 

To  serve  the  poor  and  wash  their  feet. 

I  saw  where  countless  hearts  besought 
Pardon,  for  heaven's  sweet  peace  athirst ; 

And  through  my  soul  the  tender  thought 
Of  Mary,  Virgin-mother  pierced. 

I  saw  a  city  kneeling  down, 

I  saw  the  gonfanon  unfurled, 
I  saw  the  Pope  in  triple  crown 

Stand  up  for  God  and  bless  the  world. 

Templars  I  saw,  and  monks  and  nuns, 
I  saw  frail  priests  strong  kings  command ; 

I  thought  how  great  the  world  was  once 
When  Heaven  and  Hell  were  close  at 

hand. 

40 


GOOD-FRIDA  Y 

The  gloaming  came ;  I  ceased  to  ache, 
For  in  my  veins  the  springtime  welled, 

And  soothed  my  fancy  to  forsake 
The  deep  and  simple  things  of  eld, 

And  fly  away  where  blackbirds  sing, 
To  wander  free  in  dale  and  down. 

BASIL 
I  would  that  I  could  see  the  spring ! 

SANDY 
Has  any  one  been  out  of  town  ? 

MENZIES 
I  have  for  weeks. 

BASIL 

For  weeks  ?     By  heaven 
What  deeds  heroic  have  you  wrought 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

That  such  a  foretaste  should  be  given 
Of  Paradise? 

MENZIES 
I  earned  it  not. 

'T  was  accident :  nor  did  I  know 

Till  now,  that  when  they  come  to  die 
Good  press-men  to  the  country  go. 

BRIAN 
I  think  it 's  true. 

SANDY 

And  so  do  I. 

Heaven  is  to  tread  unpaven  ground, 
And  care  no  more  for  prose  or  rhyme. 

Dear  Menzies,  talk  of  sight  and  sound, 
And  make  us  feel  the  blossom-time. 

42 


GOOD-FRIDA  Y 

MENZIES 

Then  let  my  fancy  dive  and  hale 
Pearls  from  my  wandering  memory, 

Unstrung,  unsorted,  else  I  fail 

To  see  the  spring  and  make  you  see. 

Already  round  the  oak  at  eve 

Good  people  prate  of  gain  and  loss ; 

With  folded  hands  some  sit  and  grieve  — 
New    mounds    the     green     churchyard 
emboss. 

The  osier-peelers  —  ragged  bands  — 
In  osier-holts  their  business  ply ; 

Like  strokes  of  silver  willow-wands 
On  river  banks  a-bleaching  lie. 

The  patchwork  sunshine  nets  the  lea; 
The  flitting  shadows  halt  and  pass ; 
43 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Forlorn,  the  mossy  humble-bee 
Lounges  along  the  flowerless  grass. 

With  unseen  smoke  as  pure  as  dew, 
Sweeter  than  love  or  lovers  are, 

Wood-violets  of  watchet  hue 
Their  secret  hearths  betray  afar. 

The  vanguards  of  the  daisies  come, 
Summer's  crusaders  sanguine-stained, 

The  only  flowers  that  left  their  home 
When  happiness  in  Eden  reigned. 

They  strayed  abroad,  old  writers  tell, 
Hardy  and  bold,  east,  west,  south,  north : 

Our  guilty  parents,  when  they  fell, 

And  flaming  vengeance  drove  them  forth, 

Their  haggard  eyes  in  vain  to  God, 
To  all  the  stars  of  heaven  turned ; 
44 


GOOD-FRIDA  Y 

But  when  they  saw  where  in  the  sod 
The  golden-hearted  daisies  burned, 

Sweet  thoughts  that  still  within  them  dwelt 
Awoke,  and  tears  embalmed  their  smart ; 

On  Eden's  daisies  couched  they  felt 
They  carried  Eden  in  their  heart. 

BASIL 
Oh,  little  flower  so  sweet  and  dear  ! 

SANDY 
Oh,  humanest  of  flowers  that  grow ! 

BRIAN 

Oh,  little  brave  adventurer ! 
We  human  beings  love  you  so  ! 

45 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

We  human  beings  love  it  so  ! 

And  when  a  maiden's  dainty  shoe 
Can  cover  nine,  the  gossips  know 

The  fulness  of  the  Spring  is  due. 

BRIAN 
The  gallant  flower ! 

SANDY 
Its  health  !  Come,  drink  ! 

MENZIES 
Its  health !    By  heaven,  in  Highland  style  ! 

BASIL 

The  daisy's  health  !     And  now  we  '11  think 
Of  Eden  silently  a  while. 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 


47 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

BASIL     MENZIES     PERCY     BRIAN     HERBERT     SANDY 

HERBERT 

I  HEAR  the  lark  and  linnet  sing ; 
I  hear  the  whitethroat's  alto  ring. 

MENZIES 

I  hear  the  idle  workman  sigh ; 
I  hear  his  hungry  children  cry. 

SANDY 

Still  sad  and  brooding  over  ill : 
Why  listen  to  discordant  tones  ? 
4  49 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

HERBERT 

We  dream,  we  sing,  we  drive  the  quill 
To  keep  the  flesh  upon  our  bones. 
Therefore  what  trade  have  we  with  wrongs, 
With  ways  and  woes  that  spoil  our  songs  ? 

MENZIES 

None,  none  !     Alas,  there  lies  the  sting ! 
We  see,  we  feel,  but  cannot  aid ; 
We  hide  our  foolish  heads  and  sing : 
We  live,  we  die ;  and  all  is  said. 

HERBERT 

To  wonder-worlds  of  old  romance 
Our  aching  thoughts  for  solace  run. 

BRIAN 

And  some  have  stolen  fire  from  France. 
50 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

SANDY 
And  some  adore  the  Midnight  sun. 

MENZIES 

I,  too,  for  light  the  world  explore, 

And,  trembling,  tread  where  angels  trod ; 

Devout  at  every  shrine  adore, 

And  follow  after  each  new  god. 

But  by  the  altar  everywhere 

I  find  the  money-changer's  stall ; 

And  littering  every  temple-stair 

The  sick  and  sore  like  maggots  crawl. 

BASIL 
Your  talk  is  vain ;  your  voice  is  hoarse. 

MENZIES 
I  would  they  were  as  hoarse  and  vain 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

As  their  wide-weltering  spring  and  source 
Of  helpless  woe,  of  wrath  insane. 

HERBERT 
Why  will  you  hug  the  coast  of  Hell? 

BRIAN 
Why  antedate  the  Judgment  Day? 

MENZIES 
Nay,  flout  me  not ;  you  know  me  well. 

BASIL 
Right,  comrade  !     Give  your  fancy  way. 

MENZIES 

I  cannot  see  the  stars  and  flowers, 
Nor  hear  the  lark's  soprano  ring, 
Because  a  ruddy  darkness  lowers 
52 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

For  ever,  and  the  tempests  sing. 

I  see  the  strong  coerce  the  weak, 

And  labour  overwrought  rebel ; 

I  hear  the  useless  treadmill  creek, 

The  prisoner,  cursing  in  his  cell ; 

I  see  the  loafer-burnished  wall ; 

I  hear  the  rotting  match-girl  whine ; 

I  see  the  unslept  switchman  fall ; 

I  hear  the  explosion  in  the  mine ; 

I  see  along  the  heedless  street 

The  sandwichmen  trudge  through  the  mire  ; 

I  hear  the  tired  quick-tripping  feet 

Of  sad,  gay  girls  who  ply  for  hire. 

BASIL 

To  brood  on  feeble  woe  at  length 
Must  drive  the  sanest  thinker  mad ; 
Consider  rather  weal  and  strength. 
53 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

On  what  foundations  do  they  stand  ? 
I  mark  the  sable  ironclad 
In  every  sea ;  in  every  land, 
An  army,  idling  on  the  chain 
Of  rusty  peace  that  chafes  and  frets 
Its  seven-leagued  limbs,  and  bristled  mane 
Of  glittering  bayonets ; 
The  glowing  blast,  the  fire-shot  smoke 
Where  guns  are  forged  and  armour-plate ; 
The  mammoth  hammer's  pounding  stroke ; 
The  din  of  our  dread  iron  date. 
And  always  divers  undertones 
Within  the  roaring  tempest  throb  — 
The  chink  of  gold,  the  labourer's  groans, 
The  infant's  wail,  the  woman's  sob. 
Hoarsely  they  beg  of  Fate  to  give 
54 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

A  little  lightening  of  their  woe, 

A  little  time  to  love,  to  live, 

A  little  time  to  think  and  know. 

I  see  where  from  the  slums  may  rise 

Some  unexpected  dreadful  dawn  — 

The  gleam  of  steeled  and  scowling  eyes, 

A  flash  of  women's  faces  wan  ! 

BASIL 

This  is  St.  George's  Day. 

MENZIES 
St.  George?     A  wretched  thief,  I  vow. 

HERBERT 

Nay,  Menzies,  you  should  rather  say, 
St  George  for  Merry  England,  now ! 
55 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

That  surely  is  a  phantom  cry, 
Hollow  and  vain  for  many  years. 

MENZIES 

I  hear  the  idle  workmen  sigh ; 
I  hear  the  drip  of  women's  tears. 

HERBERT 

I  hear  the  lofty  lark, 
The  lowly  nightingale. 

BASIL 

The  Present  is  a  dungeon  dark 
Of  social  problems.    Break  the  gaol ! 
Get  out  into  the  splendid  Past 
Or  bid  the  splendid  Future  hail. 
56 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

MENZIES. 

Nor  then,  nor  now,  nor  first,  nor  last, 
I  know.     The  slave  of  ruthless  Law, 
To  me  Time  seems  a  dungeon  vast 
Where  Life  lies  rotting  in  the  straw. 

BASIL 

I  care  not  for  your  images 
Of  Life  and  Law.     I  want  to  sing 
Of  England  and  of  Englishmen 
Who  made  our  country  what  it  is. 

HERBERT 
And  I  to  praise  the  English  Spring. 

PERCY 
St  George  for  Merry  England,  then ! 

MENZIES 

There  is  no  England  now,  I  fear. 
57 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BASIL 
No  England,  say  you,  and  since  when  ? 

MENZIES 

Cockney  and  Celt  and  Scot  are  here, 
And  Democrats  and  '  ans '  and  '  ists  ' 
In  clubs  and  cliques  and  divers  lists ; 
But  now  we  have  no  Englishmen. 

BASIL 

You  utter  what  you  never  felt, 
I  know.     By  bog  and  mount  and  fen, 
No  Saxon,  Norman,  Scot,  or  Celt 
I  find,  but  only  Englishmen. 

HERBERT 

In  all  our  hedges  roses  bud. 
58 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

BASIL 
And  thought   and  speech  are   more  than 

blood. 

HERBERT 

Away  with  spleen,  and  let  us  sing 
The  praises  of  the  English  Spring ! 

BASIL 

In  weeds  of  gold  and  purple  hues 
Glad  April  bursts  with  piping  news 
Of  swifts  and  swallows  come  again, 
And  of  the  tender  pensive  strain 
The  bulfinch  sings  from  bush  to  bush. 

PERCY. 

And  oh !  the  blackbird  and  the  thrush 
Interpret  as  no  master  may 
The  meaning  of  the  night  and  day. 
59 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

They  catch  the  whispers  of  the  breeze 
And  weave  them  into  melodies. 

BRIAN 

They  utter  for  the  hours  that  pass 
The  purpose  of  their  moments  bright. 

BASIL 

They  speak  the  passion  of  the  grass, 
That  grows  so  stoutly  day  and  night. 

HERBERT 

St  George  for  Merry  England,  then  ! 
For  we  are  all  good  Englishmen ! 

PERCY 

We  stand  as  our  forefathers  stood 
For  Liberty's  and  Conscience'  sake. 
60 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

HERBERT 

We  are  the  sons  of  Robin  Hood, 
The  sons  of  Hereward  the  Wake. 

PERCY 

The  sons  of  yeomen,  English-fed, 
Ready  to  feast  or  drink  or  fight. 

HERBERT 

The  sons  of  kings  —  of  Hal  and  Ned, 
Who  kept  their  island  right  and  tight. 

PERCY 

The  sons  of  Cromwell's  Ironsides, 
Who  knew  no  king  but  God  above. 

BASIL 

We  are  the  sons  of  English  brides, 
Who  married  Englishmen  for  love. 

6! 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

Oh,  now  I  see  Fate's  means  and  ends ! 
The  Bruce  and  Wallace  wight  I  ken, 
Who  saved  old  Scotland  from  its  friends, 
Were  mighty  northern  Englishmen. 

BRIAN 

And  Parnell,  who  so  greatly  fought 
Against  a  wanton  useless  yoke, 
With  Fate  inevitably  wrought 
That  Irish  should  be  English  folk. 

BASIL 

By  bogland,  highland,  down,  and  fen, 
All  Englishmen,  all  Englishmen ! 

MENZIES 

There  is  no  England  now,  I  say  — 
62 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

BRIAN 
No  England  now!     My  grief,  my  grief! 

MENZIES 

We  lie  widespread,  the  dragon-prey 

Of  any  Cappadocian  thief. 

In  Arctic  and  Pacific  seas 

We  lounge  and  loaf;  and  either  pole 

We  reach  with  sprawling  colonies  — 

Unwieldy  limbs  that  lack  a  soul. 

BASIL 

St  George  for  Greater  England,  then ! 
The  Boreal  and  the  Austral  men ! 
They  reverence  the  heroic  roll 
Of  Englishmen  who  sang  and  fought : 
They  have  a  soul,  a  mighty  soul, 
The  soul  of  English  speech  and  thought. 
63 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 
And  when  the  soul  of  England  slept  — 

BASIL 
St  George  for  foolish  England,  then !  — 

SANDY 

Lo  !     Washington  and  Lincoln  kept 
America  for  Englishmen ! 

BASIL 

Hurrah !     The  English  people  reigns 
Across  the  wide  Atlantic  flood  ! 
It  could  not  bind  itself  in  chains ! 
For  Yankee  blood  is  English  blood. 

HERBERT 

And  here  the  spring  is  queen 
In  robes  of  white  and  green. 
64 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

PERCY 

In  chestnut  sconces  opening  wide 
Tapers  shall  burn  some  fresh  May  morn. 

BRIAN 

And  the  elder  brightens  the  highway  side, 
And  the  briony  binds  the  thorn. 

SANDY 

White  is  the  snow  of  the  leafless  sloe, 
The  saxifrage  by  the  sedge, 
And  white  the  lady-smocks  a-row 
And  sauce-alone  in  the  hedge. 

BASIL 

England  is  in  her  Spring ; 
She  only  begins  to  be. 
Oh !  for  an  organ  voice  to  sing 
The  summer  I  can  see  ! 
s  65 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

But  the  Past  is  there ;  and  a  mole  may  know, 
And  a  bat  may  understand. 
That  we  are  the  people  wherever  we  go  — 
Kings  by  sea  and  land  ! 

HERBERT 

And  the  spring  is  crowned  and  stoled 
In  purple  and  in  gold. 

PERCY 

Wherever  light,  wherever  shade  is, 
Gold  and  purple  may  be  seen. 

BRIAN 

Gold  and  purple  lords-and-ladies 
Tread  a  measure  on  the  green. 

HERBERT 

In  deserts  where  the  wild  wind  blows 
Blossoms  the  magic  haemony. 
66 


Sr  GEORGE'S  DAY 

PERCY 

Deep  in  the  Chiltern  woodland  glows 
The  purple  pasque  anemone. 

BASIL 

And  England  still  grows  great 
And  never  shall  grow  old ; 
Within  our  hands  we  hold 
The  world's  fate. 

MENZIES 

We  hold  the  world's  fate? 
The  cry  seems  out  of  date. 

BASIL 

Not  while  a  single  Englishman 
Can  work  with  English  brains  and  bones  ! 
67 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Awaiting  us  since  time  began, 

The  swamps  of  ice,  the  wastes  of  flame  ! 

In  Boreal  and  Austral  zones 

Took  life  and  meaning  when  we  came. 

The  Sphinx  that  watches  by  the  Nile 

Has  seen  great  empires  pass  away : 

The  mightiest  lasted  but  a  while ; 

Yet  ours  shall  not  decay. 

Because,  although  red  blood  may  flow, 

And  ocean  shake  with  shot, 

Not  England's   sword   but  England's 

Word 

Undoes  the  Gordian  Knot. 
Bold  tongue,  stout  heart,  strong  hand, 

brave  brow 

The  world's  four  quarters  win ; 
And  patiently  with  axe  and  plough 
We  bring  the  deserts  in. 
68 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

MENZIES 

Whence  comes  this  patriotic  craze? 
Spare  us  at  least  the  hackneyed  brag 
About  the  famous  English  flag. 

BASIL 

I  '11  spare  no  flourish  of  its  praise. 
Where'er  our  flag  floats  in  the  wind 
Order  and  justice  dawn  and  shine. 
The  dusky  myriads  of  Ind, 
The  swarthy  tribes  far  south  the  line, 
And  all  who  fight  with  lawless  law, 
And  all  with  lawless  men  who  cope 
Look  hitherward  across  the  brine, 
For  we  are  the  world's  forlorn  hope. 

MENZIES 

That  makes  my  heart  leap  up  !    Hurrah ! 
We  are  the  world's  forlorn  hope  ! 
69 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

HERBERT 

And  with  the  merry  birds  we  sing 
The  praises  of  the  English  Spring. 

PERCY 
Iris  and  orchis  now  unfold. 

BRIAN 

The  drooping-leaved  laburnums  ope 
In  thunder-showers  of  greenish  gold. 

MENZIES 
And  we  are  the  world's  forlorn  hope ! 

SANDY 

The  lilacs  shake  their  dancing  plumes 
Of  lavender,  mauve,  and  heliotrope. 

HERBERT 

The  speedwell  on  the  highway  blooms. 
70 


ST  GEORGE'S  DAY 

MENZIES 
And  we  are  the  world's  forlorn  hope ! 

SANDY 
Skeletons  lurk  in  every  street. 

HERBERT 
We  push  and  strike  for  air  and  scope. 

BRIAN 

The  pulses  of  rebellion  beat 

Where  want  and  hunger  sulk  and  mope. 

MENZIES 

But  though  we  wander  far  astray, 
And  oft  in  gloomy  darkness  grope, 
Fearless  we  face  the  blackest  day, 
For  we  are  the  world's  forlorn  hope. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

St  George  for  Merry  England,  then ! 
For  we  are  all  good  Englishmen ! 

BASIL 

St  George  for  Greater  England,  then ! 
The  Boreal  and  the  Austral  men ! 

ALL 

By  bogland,  highland,  down,  and  fen, 
All  Englishmen,  all  Englishmen  ! 
Who  with  their  latest  breath  shall  sing 
Of  England  and  the  English  Spring! 


72 


MAY-DAY 


73 


MAY-DAY 
BRIAN  MENZIES 

BRIAN 
LATE  —  you  are  late.     And  where  have  you 

been? 

MENZIES 

I  have  been  in  the  woods  and  the  lanes. 

BRIAN 
And  what  have  you  heard  and  what  have 

you  seen, 
And  what  in  your  fancy  reigns? 

MENZIES 

I  have  heard  the  ring-dove  coo, 
75 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  the  cuckoo  toll  his  bell ; 

I  have  seen  the  shrieking  jay  flash  blue 

Athwart  a  wooded  dell. 

I  have  heard  the  chattering  streamlet  run 

In  haste  to  reach  the  sea ; 

I  have  watched  the  golden  bee, 

Cupid  and  Hymen  in  one, 

Morn,  noon,  and  afternoon, 

Fulfil  the  tingling  hours 

With  the  murmuring  sound  of  his  bridal  tune 

As  he  married  the  waiting  flowers. 

The  long,  long  hedgerows  white  with  May 

Bordered  the  rustling  lanes ; 

And  a  fragrant  wind  blew  all  the  day. 

BRIAN 

But  what  in  your  fancy  reigns? 
76 


MAY-DAY 

MENZIES 

There  reigned,  and  is  regnant  still, 
A  memory,  long  forgot, 
Of  a  lowland  town,  a  lowland  hill, 
And  a  lowland  woman's  lot. 

She  shed  her  tears,  and  dreamed  her  dreams, 
And  wore  her  sad  wan  smiles, 
Where  a  wide  water  winds  and  gleams 
Among  its  links  and  isles. 

Rock-perched  a  royal  borough  towers 
High  over  the  highest  trees, 
With  crumbling  walls  and  faded  bowers 
And  mouldering  palaces. 

Near  by  a  hill  its  dark  crest  lifts 
Sheer  from  the  river's  bank, 
77 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  cloudy  shadow  broods  and  shifts 
About  its  russet  flank. 


The  land  is  stained  with  purple  dyes 
Of  high-romantic  scenes ; 
The  air  still  quivers  with  the  sighs 
Of  tragic  kings  and  queens ; 

The  very  ploughman  holds  his  plough 
As  proudly  as  a  lance ; 
The  milkmaid  bears  a  dreamy  brow, 
Inheriting  romance. 

Even  in  my  father's  time  a  crew 
Of  lads  and  lasses  gay 
Would  dip  their  faces  in  the  dew 
Upon  the  first  of  May. 
78 


MA  Y-DA  Y 

This  joyful  mood  might  not  withstand 
The  age's  growing  care, 
When  railways  hacked  and  scored  the  land, 
And  wires  engraved  the  air. 

One  woman  only,  all  forlorn, 

While  twenty  summers  flew, 

Still  climbed  the  hill  each  May-day  morn 

Her  beauty  to  renew ! 

What  love,  what  loss,  what  hope  was  hers 
No  man  or  maid  could  tell, 
But  all  the  loyal  lowlanders 
Esteemed  her  custom  well. 

Dressed  in  a  hat  with  broken  plume, 
A  cape,  and  worn  black  frock, 
Before  the  dawn  she  left  her  room, 
And  climbed  by  scar  and  rock. 
79 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  so  to-day  by  lane  and  burn, 
By  scented  hedge  and  shaw, 
At  many  a  pause  and  sudden  turn 
Her  wistful  face  I  saw. 

And  once  as  in  a  waking  dream 
The  whole  fair  lowland  shone  — 
The  palaced  rock,  the  hill,  the  stream, 
The  softly  coming  dawn : 

And  she  with  sobs  and  murmured  cries 
To  earth's  green  bosom  laid 
Her  withered  cheek,  while  from  her  eyes 
Hot  dew  on  cold  dew  strayed. 

BRIAN 
What  was  her  end  ? 

MENZIES 

Oh,  exquisite ! 
80 


MA  Y-DA  Y 

Winter  and  Spring  she  lay 
Bedridden  in  a  palsy  fit; 
But  on  the  first  of  May, 

When  the  lark  waked  the  sun,  she  too 
Arose,  and  in  a  trance 
Went  forth  to  bathe  her  face  in  dew, 
The  martyr  of  romance. 

They  found  her  on  the  green  hillside 
At  home,  and  sleeping  fast 
Her  endless  sleep,  Death's  pallid  bride, 
Most  beautiful  at  last. 

(Singing  within.) 

'Remember  us  poor  Mayers  all, 

'  And  thus  we  do  begin 
'  To  lead  our  lives  in  righteousness, 

'  Or  else  we  die  in  sin. 
6  81 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

'  I  have  been  rambling  all  this  night, 

'  And  almost  all  this  day, 
'  And  now  returned  back  again 

'  I  bring  you  a  branch  of  May! 

BRIAN 
An  antique  minstrel !     Hark  ! 

MENZIES 
It  is  Basil :  I  know  his  note. 

(Enter  BASIL,  carrying  a  branch  of  haw- 
thorn blossom^} 

MENZIES 

Have  you  been  where  the  night-jar  haunts 

the  dark 

In  outland  ways  remote? 
82 


MA  Y-DA  Y 

BASIL 

I  have  been  with  the  nightingale : 
I  have  learned  his  song  so  sweet : 
I  sang  it  aloud  by  wood  and  dale, 
And  under  my  breath  in  the  street 
If  the  words  would  only  flow  — 

MENZIES 
Oh,  sing  it  now ! 

BASIL 

No,  no ! 
But  it  went  like  this,  I  think :  — 

'  Where  the  purple  hyacinths  grew, 
'  And  the  campions  white  and  pink, 
'  The  jewelled  butterflies  flew 
'  From  jewelled  cups  to  drink ; 
83 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

1  And  some  were  violet-eyed, 

'  Some  blue,  some  rosy-red, 

'  Gold-plumed,  or  damask-dyed, 

'  Earth-born  and  heaven-bred  ; 

'  And  every  chalice  drooped  and  sighed 

'  When  the  splendid  revellers  fled  ; 

'  But  never  a  flower  its  cup  denied 

'  Though  the  wine  of  life  was  shed. 


'  The  lark  from  the  top  of  heaven  raved 

'  Of  the  sunshine  sweet  and  old  ; 

'  And  the  whispering  branches  dipped  and 
laved 

'  In  the  light ;  and  waste  and  wold 

'  Took  heart  and   shone ;   and    the  butter- 
cups paved 

'  The  emerald  meads  with  gold. 
84 


MA  Y-DA  Y 

'  Now  in  the  forest  is  night ; 

'  The  flowers  have  gone  to  sleep ; 

'  But  the  stars  have  opened  their  eyes  of 

light 

'  Under  the  brows  of  heaven  deep  ; 
'  And  gentle  shadows  cross  my  sight, 
'  And  murmurs  rustle  and  creep  ; 
'  And  the  very  darkness  is  fresh  and  bright 
'  With  the  tears  the  sweet  dews  weep. 

'  The  wind  steals  down  the  lawns 
'  With  a  whisper  of  ecstasy, 
'  Of  moonlight  nights  and  rosy  dawns, 
'  And  a  nest  in  a  hawthorn  tree, 
'  Of  the  little  mate  for  whom  I  wait, 
'  Flying  across  the  sea, 
'  Through  storm  and  night  as  sure  as  fate, 
'  Swift-winged  with  love  for  me.' 
85 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

And  so  you  brought  home  the  May 
With  the  nightingale's  song  in  your  ears. 

BASIL 

And  sad  eyes  flashed  for  a  moment  gay, 
Or  welled  with  happy  tears, 
When  they  saw  my  branch   and   remem- 
bered the  day, 
And  forgot  the  tedious  years. 
And  I  thought  as  I  tuned  my  rhyme, 
And  waved  the  branch  in  my  hand, 
Of  the  famous  olden  time 
When  a  Maypole  stood  in  the  Strand. 

BRIAN 

Let  the  Golden  Days  return ! 
86 


MA  Y-DA  Y 

MENZIES 
And  let  the  May-queen  reign  ! 

BASIL 

When  smokeless  fires  burn, 
And  London  is  born  again ! 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

BASIL  SANDY  HERBERT 

SANDY 

I  CANNOT  write,  I  cannot  think ; 

'T  is  half  delight  and  half  distress : 
My  memory  stumbles  on  the  brink 

Of  some  unfathomed  happiness  — 

Of  some  old  happiness  divine. 

What  haunting  scent,  what  haunting  note, 
What  word,  or  what  melodious  line, 

Sends  my  heart  throbbing  to  my  throat? 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BASIL 
What?  thrilled  with  happiness  to-day, 

The  longest  day  in  all  the  year, 
Which  we  must  spend  in  making  hay 

By  thrashing  straw  in  Fleet  Street  here  ! 

What  scent?  what  sound?    The  odour  stale 
Of  watered  streets ;  the  bruit  loud 

Of  hoof  and  wheel  on  road  and  rail, 
The  rush  and  trample  of  the  crowd ! 

HERBERT 
Humming  the  song  of  many  a  lark, 

Out  of  the  sea,  across  the  shires, 
The  west  wind  blows  about  the  park, 

And  faintly  stirs  the  Fleet  Street  wires. 

Perhaps  it  sows  the  happy  seed 
That  blossoms  in  your  memory; 
92 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

Certain  of  many  a  western  mead, 
And  hill  and  stream  it  speaks  to  me. 

With  rosy  showers  of  apple-bloom 
The  orchard  sward  is  mantled  deep ; 

Shaded  in  some  sequestered  coomb 
The  red  deer  in  the  Quantocks  sleep. 

BASIL 
Go  on  :   of  rustic  visions  tell 

Till  I  forget  the  wilderness 
Of  sooty  brick,  the  dusty  smell, 

The  jangle  of  the  printing-press. 

HERBERT 
I  hear  the  woodman's  measured  stroke ; 

I  see  the  amber  streamlet  glide  — 
Above,  the  green  gold  of  the  oak 
Fledges  the  gorge  on  either  side. 
93 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

A  thatched  roof  shines  athwart  the  gloom 
Of  the  high  moorland's  darksome  ground  ; 

Far  off  the  surging  rollers  boom, 

And  fill  the  shadowy  wood  with  sound. 

BASIL 

You  have  pronounced  the  magic  sign ! 

The  city  with  its  thousand  years, 
Like  some  embodied  mood  of  mine, 

Uncouth,  prodigious,  disappears. 

I  stand  upon  a  lowly  bridge, 

Moss-grown  beside  the  old  Essex  home ; 
Over  the  distant  purple  ridge 

The  clouds  arise  in  sultry  foam ; 

In  many  a  cluster,  wreath,  and  chain 
A  silvery  vapour  hangs  on  high, 
94 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

And  snowy  scarfs  of  silken  grain 
Bedeck  the  blue  slopes  of  the  sky ; 

The  wandering  water  sighs  and  calls, 
And  breaks  into  a  chant  that  rings 

Beneath  the  vaulted  bridge,  then  falls 
And  under  heaven  softly  sings ; 

A  light  wind  lingers  here  and  there, 
And  whispers  in  an  unknown  tongue 

The  passionate  secrets  of  the  air, 
That  never  may  by  men  be  sung : 

Low,  low,  it  whispers ;  stays,  and  goes ; 

It  comes  again ;  again  takes  flight ; 
And  like  a  subtle  presence  grows 

And  almost  gathers  into  sight 
95 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

The  wind  that  stirs  the  Fleet  Street  wires, 
And  roams  and  quests  about  the  Park, 

That  wanders  all  across  the  shires, 
Humming  the  song  of  many  a  lark  — 

The  wind  —  it  is  the  wind,  whose  breath, 
Perfumed  with  roses,  wakes  in  me 

From  shrouded  slumbers  deep  as  death 
A  yet  unfaded  memory. 

BASIL 

About  Midsummer,  every  hour 

Ten  thousand  rosebuds  opening  blush ; 

The  land  is  all  one  rosy  bower, 
And  rosy  odours  haunt  and  flush 
96 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

The  winds  of  heaven  up  and  down : 
On  the  top-gallant  of  the  air 

The  lark,  the  pressman  in  the  town 
Breathe  only  rosy  incense  rare. 

SANDY 

And  I,  enchanted  by  the  rose, 
Remember  when  I  first  began 

To  know  what  in  its  bosom  glows 
Exhaling  scent  ambrosian. 

A  child,  at  home  in  streets  and  quays, 
The  city  tumult  in  my  brain, 

I  only  knew  of  tarnished  trees, 

And  skies  corroding  vapours  stain. 

One  summer  —  Time  upon  my  head 
Had  showered  the  curls  of  years  eleven 
7  97 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Me,  for  a  month,  good  fortune  led 

Where   trees   are  green   and    hills   kiss 
heaven. 

By  glen  and  mountain,  moor  and  lawn, 
Burn-side  and  sheep-path,  day  and  night, 

I  wandered,  a  belated  faun, 

All  sense,  all  wonder,  all  delight. 

And  once  at  eve  I  climbed  a  hill, 
Burning  to  see  the  sun  appear, 

And  watched  the  jewelled  darkness  fill 
With  lamps  and  clustered  tapers  clear. 

At  last  the  strongest  stars  were  spent ; 

A  glimmering  shadow  overcame 
The  swarthy-purple  firmament, 

And  throbbed  and  kindled  into  flame ; 
98 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

The  pallid  day,  the  trembling  day 
Put  on  her  saffron  wedding-dress, 

And  watched  her  bridegroom  far  away 
Soar  through  the  starry  wilderness. 

I  clasped  my  hands  and  closed  my  eyes, 
And  tears  relieved  my  ecstasy : 

I  dared  not  watch  the  sun  arise ; 
Nor  knew  what  magic  daunted  me : 

And  yet  the  roses  seemed  to  tell 

More  than  the  morn,  had  I  but  known 

The  meaning  of  the  fragrant  smell 
That  bound  me  with  a  subtle  zone. 

But  in  the  gloaming  when  we  played 
At  hide-and-seek,  and  I  with  her 

Behind  a  rose-bush  hid,  afraid 

To  meet  her  gaze,  to  breathe,  or  stir, 
99 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  dungeon  of  my  sense  was  riven, 
The  beauty  of  the  world  laid  bare, 

A  great  wind  caught  me  up  to  heaven 
Upon  a  cloud  of  golden  hair; 

And  mouth  touched  mouth ;  and  love  was 
born; 

And  when  our  wondering  vision  blent, 
We  found  the  meaning  of  the  morn, 

The  meaning  of  the  rose's  scent 

Ah  me  !  ah  me  !  since  then  !  since  then  ! 

HERBERT 

Nay,  nay ;  let  self-reproaches  be  ! 
Now  that  this  thought  is  throned  again, 
Be  zealous  for  its  sovereignty. 
100 


MIDSUMMER  DAY 

BASIL 
And  brave,  great  Nature  must  be  thanked ; 

And  we  must  worship  on  our  knees, 
And  hold  for  ever  sacro-sanct 

Such  dewy  memories  as  these. 


IOI 


ST   SWITHIN'S   DAY 


103 


ST   SWITHIN'S   DAY 

BASIL  SANDY  BRIAN  MENZIES 

BASIL 
WE  four  —  since  Easter-time  we  have  not 

met. 

BRIAN 

And  now  the  Dog  Days  bake  us  in  our 

rooms 
Like  heretics  in  Dis's  lidded  tombs. 

SANDY 
Oh,  for  a  little  wind,  a  little  wet ! 

BRIAN 

A  little  wet,  but  not  from  heaven,  I  pray ! 
Have  you  forgotten  't  is  St  Swithin's  Day? 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BASIL 

Cast  books  aside,  strew  paper,  drop  the  pen  ! 
Bring  ice,  bring  lemons,  bring  St  Julien  ! 

SANDY 
Bring  garlands ! 

BRIAN 

With  the  laurel,  lest  it  fade, 
Let  Bacchus  twist  vine-leaf  and  cabbage 
blade ! 

BASIL 

I  would  I  lay  beside  a  brook  at  morn, 
And  watched  the  shepherd's-clock  declare 

the  hours ; 

And  heard  the  husky  whisper  of  the  corn, 

Legions  of  bees  in  leagues  of  summer  flowers. 

106 


.S-7*  S WITHIN' S  DAY 

BRIAN 
Who  has  been  out  of  London? 

BASIL 

Once,  in  June 

Upstream  I  went  to  hear  the  summer  tune 
The  birds  sing  at  Long  Ditton  in  a  vale 
Sacred  to  him  who  wrote  his  own  heart's 

tale. 

Of  singing  birds  that  hollow  is  the  haunt : 
Never  was  such  a  place  for  singing  in ! 
The  valley  overflows  with  song  and  chaunt, 
And  brimming  echoes  spill  the  pleasant  din. 
High  in  the  oak-trees  where  the  fresh  leaves 

sprout, 

The  blackbirds  with  their  oboe  voices  make 
The  sweetest  broken  music  all  about 
The  beauty  of  the  day  for  beauty's  sake, 
107 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  wanton  shadow  and  the  languid  cloud, 
The  grass-green  velvet  where  the  daisies 

crowd ; 

And  all  about  the  air  that  softly  comes 
Thridding  the  hedgerows  with  its  noiseless 

feet, 

The  purling  waves  with  muffled  elfin  drums, 
That  step  along  their  pebble-paven  street ; 
And  all  about  the  mates  whose  love  they 

won, 

And  all  about  the  sunlight  and  the  sun. 
The  thrushes  into  song  more  bravely  launch 
Than  thrushes  do  in  any  other  dell ; 
Warblers  and  willow-wrens  on  every  branch, 
Each  hidden  by  a  leaf,  their  rapture  tell ; 
Green-finches  in  the  elms  sweet  nothings 

say, 

Busy  with  love  from  dawn  to  dusk  are  they. 
1 08 


ST  SWITHIN'S  DA  Y 

A  passionate  nightingale  adown  the  lane 
Shakes  with  the  force  and  volume  of  his  song 
A  hawthorn's  heaving  foliage ;  such  a  strain, 
Self-caged   like    him  to  make  his  singing 

strong, 

Some  poet  may  have  made  in  days  of  yore, 
Untold,  unwritten,  lost  for  evermore. 

SANDY 

Your  holiday  was  of  a  rarer  mood, 
A  dedication  loftier  than  mine ; 
But  yet  I  swear  my  holiday  was  good : 
I  went  to  Glasgow  just  for  auld  lang  syne. 
In  Sauchiehall  Street  in  the  afternoon 
I  saw  a  lady  walking  all  in  black, 
But  on  her  head  a  hat  shaped  like  the  moon, 
Crescent  and  white  and  clouded  with  a  veil. 
I  could  not  see  if  she  were  fair  or  pale 
109 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Because  her  beauty  hid  her  like  a  mist : 
But  well  I  knew  her  bosom  from  her  back ; 
And  all  her  delicacy  well  I  wist : 
And  every  boy  and  man  that  saw  her  pass 
Adored  the  beauty  of  that  Scottish  lass. 
I  said  within :  '  Three  things  are  worthiest 

knowing, 

And  when  I  know  them  nothing  else  I  know. 
I  know  unboundedly,  what  needs  no  showing, 
That  women  are  most  beautiful ;  and  then 
I  know  I  love  them ;  and  I  know  again 
Herein  alone  true  Science  lies,  for,  lo ! 
Old  Rome  's  a  ruin  ;  Caesar  is  a  name ; 
The  Church?  —  alas  !  a  lifeboat,  warped  and 

sunk; 

God,  a  disputed  title :   but  the  fame 
Of  those  who  sang  of  love,  fresher  than 

spring, 

no 


ST  SWITHIN'S  DA  Y 

Blossoms  for  ever  with  the  tree  of  life, 
Whose  boughs  are  generations ;  and  its  trunk 
Love ;  and  its  flowers,  lovers. 

BRIAN 

Love  we  sing, 
Towards  Love  we  strive ;  no  other  song  or 

strife 
We  know,  or  heed. — You,  Menzies,  what 

say  you  ? 
Dark,  in  your  corner  —  with  a  volume  too  ! 

MENZIES 

Now  that  I  hang  above  the  loathsome  hell 
Of  smouldering  spite  and  foul  disparage- 
ment, 

Even  as  a  Christian,  singed  and  basted  well 

By  Christians,  hung  in  dreadful  discontent 

in 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Chained  to  a  beam,  and  dangling  in  the  fire  ; 
And  like  an  ocean-searching  sailor-wight 
Whose  lonely  eyes  and  clinging  fingers  tire ; 
And  like  a  desperate,  pallid  acolyte 
Of  giddy  Fortune,  who  with  straining  clutch 
Swings  in  her  wheel's  wind  from  its  lower 

rim, 

Doubting  of  all  things,  disbelieving  much, 
I  come  to  him  who  sang  the  heavenly  hymn. 

BRIAN 

To  Colin  Clout !    But  whence  this  desperate 
thought? 

MENZIES 
Two  months  ago  I  published  — 

BRIAN 

(Out!     Alack!) 


ST  SWITHIN'S  DA  Y 

MENZIES 

A  book  that  held  the  essence  of  my  life ; 
Wrong  praise  and  wrong  abuse  was  all  I  got. 

BASIL 
We  all  have  suffered  from  the  critic's  knife. 

SANDY 
And  helpless  lain  on  many  a  weekly  rack. 

MENZIES 
But  I  am  weak. 

BASIL 

No,  Menzies ;  you  are  strong. 
Already  you  have  cast  aside  the  wrong, 
And  solace  found  in  Spenser's  noble  song. 
When  I  was  in  like  case  it  took  a  year 
Before  my  wounds  were  whole,  my  vision 

clear. 
8  113 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 
What  brought  you  to  yourself? 

BASIL 

I  prayed. 

MENZIES 

Indeed ! 

BRIAN 
To  whom? 

BASIL 

I  know  not ;  't  is  the  mood  I  need  — 
Submissive  aspiration. 

MENZIES 

Pray  with  us : 

Here  from  the  city's  centre  make  appeal. 
114 


ST  SWITHIN'S  DA  Y 

BRIAN 

Where  hawkers  cry,  where  roar  the  cab  and 
'bus. 

BASIL 

So  be  it.     On  your  knees,  then:    Sandy, 
kneel,  — 

Sweet  powers  of  righteousness  protect  us 

now! 

Your  adversary,  Fate,  has  driven  us  down 
From    that    green-crowned,    sun-fronting 

mountain-brow, 

Where  peace  and  aspiration  (ebb  and  flow 
Of  thought  that  strives  to  whelm  the  infinite ; 
And,  as  the  sun  for  ever  fails  to  drown 
More  than  a  little  hollow  of  the  night, 
Pierces  a  rush-light's  ray's  length  into  it) 
"5 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Swung  our  ecstatic  spirits  to  and  fro 
Between  the  Heaven  and  Hades  of  delight, 
Down  to  that  Bedlam  of  the  universe, 
That  sepulchre  of  souls  for  ever  yawning, 
That  jug  of  asps  —  God's  enemy,  Time's 

hearse, 
The   world,  that   blister   raised    by  every 

dawning. 

Help,  ere  it  drive  us  mad,  this  devil's  din  ! 
The  clash  of  iron,  and  the  clink  of  gold ; 
The  quack's,  the  beggar's  whining  manifold ; 
The  harlot's  whisper,  tempting  men  to  sin  ; 
The  voice  of  priests  who  damn  each  other's 

missions ; 

The  babel-tongues  of  foolish  politicians, 
Who  shout  around  a  swaying  Government ; 
The  groans  of  beasts  of  burden,  mostly  men, 
Who  toil  to  please  a  thankless  upper  ten ; 
116 


ST  S  WITHIN' S  DA  Y 

The  knowledge-monger's  cry,  'A  brand-new 

fact ! ' 
The  dog's  hushed  howl  from  whom  the  fact 

was  rent; 
The  still-voice  '  Culture ; '  and  the  slogan 

'Act!' 
Save  us  from  madness ;  keep  us  night  and 

day, 
Sweet  powers  of  righteousness  to  whom  we 

pray. 


117 


LAMMAS 


119 


LAMMAS 

HERBERT  PERCY  SANDY  NINIAN 

PERCY 

A  HEALTH,  in  cider,  golden,  racy,  rough  — 
The  harvest  and  the  harvesters  ! 

SANDY 

I  drink 

In  amber  spirit  that  enshrines  the  heart 
Of  an  old  Lothian  summer. 

PERCY 

Summers  old 

And  Gules  of  August !  —  to  their  memory 
I  drink,  and  to  the  memory  of  those 

121 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Who  wielded  shining  sickles.     Forth  they 

went, 

The  gaunt  and  ragged  heralds  of  the  morn : 
Before  them  spread  the  sighing  leagues  of 

grain ; 

Behind,  the  tardy  sun  arose  and  struck 
All  day  on  men  and  women  obstinate 
Against  the   stubborn   ranks,  the   golden 

horde : 

Silent  and  set,  as  their  long-sworded  sires 
Who    fought   the  crashing   rollers   on   the 

strand 

And  stared  athwart  the  ocean  wistfully 
Into  the  moaning  storm,  the  reapers  reaped  : 
And  they  grew  lean;  and  the  sun  burnt 

them  black : 

A  sea  of  living  gold  poured  round  their  feet 

And  rose  in  crested  shocks ;  still  and  anon 

122 


LAMMAS 

The  whetstone  shrieked  against  the  curving 

blade. 
I  drink  the  swarthy  harvesters  of  old  ! 

HERBERT 

To  them  all  honour !     But  I  also  drink 
The  merry  singing  wheels  that  lighten  toil. 

SANDY 

And  drive  men  into  cities  where  they  rot ! 
Nor  do  they  lighten  toil  — 

NlNIAN 

A  truce  to  this  ! 

Let  us   see  things   and  say  them.     Why 
debate  ? 

SANDY 

Debate?  The  sergeant-major  of  the  tongue  ! 
Rather  we  should  invite  his  discipline. 
123 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

PERCY 

Well  said,  indeed  !     It  is  this  same  Debate 
That  overmasters  armies;  that  distils 
From  rancorous  commotion  amity; 
It  is  the  proof,  sifter  and  alkahest 
Of  all  opinion,  and  the  ordeal  keen 
Of  knowledge,  reason  and  intelligence ; 
The  arbiter  of  right ;  the  only  source, 
Camp,  castle  and  estate  of  liberty. 
The  sword  did  never  yet  perpetuate 
The  work  it  reared  —  too  sharp  a  trowel,  still 
With  bloody  mortar  building  on  the  sand. 
The  word  alone  endures ;  but  prophecy 
Being  now  invalid,  we  exalt  Debate. 

SANDY 

The  blare  of  personal  and  party  aims 
In  parliaments  and  journals  seems  indeed 
124 


LAMMAS 

No  substitute  for  Sinai ;  but  it  serves : 
And  from  the  vehement  logomachy 
Of  interest  and  cabal,  something  humane 
At  happy  intervals  proceeds. 

NlNIAN 

How  now ! 

'  Something  humane  at  happy  intervals ! ' 
A  meagre  output  for  your  demiurge  ! 

PERCY 

Debate,  like  every  energy  divine, 
Careless  of  centuries,  elaborates 
Events  effectual  for  eternity. 
The  cavillers,  impatient  of  delay, 
Like  little  boys  that  violate  the  earth 
To  see  if  seedlings  sprout,  resent  the  mode, 
When  they  descry  the  immaterial 
Advancement  in  a  decade ;  but  we  know, 
125 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

We,  ponderers  devout  of  secular  years, 
How  this  most  tedious  Cyclops,  this  De- 
bate, 

Laborious  long  in  darkness  and  distress, 
Hammered    and    forged    the    adamantine 

chains 

That  shackle  tyranny,  and  now  begins 
To  smelt  the  ore  from  which  shall  yet  be 

wrought 
A  kingly  crown  for  every  child  of  man. 

NlNIAN 

I  see  no  hope  in  wrangling.     Nations  pass 
From  panic  into  panic ;  all  men  seem 
Fools  or  fanatics. 

PERCY 

Well?  .  .  .  Proceed;  discuss. 
126 


LAMMAS 

NlNIAN 

Not  I ;  for  now  you  put  me  on  my  guard. 
Sometimes  when  I  forget  myself  I  talk 
As  though  I  were  persuaded  of  the  truth 
Of  some  received  or  unreceived  belief; 
But  always  afterwards  I  am  ashamed 
Of  such  lewd  lapses  into  bigotry. 

PERCY 
Intolerantly  tolerant,  I  say ! 

SANDY 
This  is  debauchery :  defend  yourself! 

NlNIAN 

I  cannot ;  I  have  tried  it  many  a  time, 
And  always  failed,  because  the  thing  I  say 
Seems    not  more  just  than  that  which  I 
deny; 

127 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Nor  would  I  if  I  could,  because  to  me 
It  now  appears  inept  to  take  a  side. 
I  know  that  silence  would  become  me  best, 
And  I  endeavour  to  be  quiet. 

SANDY 

Oh! 

NlNIAN 

Indeed  I  do.  .  .  .  Now  I  shall  say  no  more. 

HERBERT 
Why  do  you  take  offence  so  readily? 

NlNIAN 

I  am  not  well :  I  am  haunted.    Lo,  I  stand 
On  Arthur's  Seat.     The  chill  and  brindled 

fog 
That  plumed  the  Bass  and  belted  Berwick 

Law, 

128 


LAMMAS 

* 
That  hung  with  ghostly  tapestry  the  stones 

Of  bleak  Tantallon,  from  the  windy  Forth, 
Noiseless  and  dim,  speeds  by  the  pier  of 

Leith, 

And  by  Leith  Walk,  its  dreary  channel  old, 
To  flood  the  famous  city,  Edinburgh. 
Then,  like  the  spectre  of  an  inland  sea 
By  wanton    sorcerers    troubled    and    de- 
stroyed, 
It  foams  with  whitening   surges  through 

the  vale, 

The  fair  green  hollow  over  Salisbury  Crags ; 
And  rises  clasping  every  gentle  slope, 
Uneven  scar,  and  fairy-girdled  knoll, 
Till  with  the  hungry  passion  of  the  dead 
It  hugs  the  high  earth,  frantic  to  supply 
Its  own  lean  misty  ribs,  and  live  again 
Terrestrial,  with  the  mountain  for  a  soul, 
9  129 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

I  stand  and  watch.    The  fog  begins  to  ebb  ; 
And  sunset  weaves  of  all  the  waning  wreaths 
A  veil  of  lace,  investing  goldenly 
The  rock-piled  castle  —  plinth  and  monolith 
Of  ruby  deep  and  dark  in  soaring  groups ; 
The  Monument  aflame  with  chrysolite ; 
St  Giles's  garland-crown  studded  with  gems. 
A  bell  rings  faintly:    curled  and  braided 

smoke 
O'erhangs  the  humming  Canongate,    and 

flings 

Dusky  festoons  that  wither  as  they  fall 
About  the  wasted  towers  of  Holyrood. 
In  front  the  burnished  disc  of  day  descends 
The  ample  crimson  west ;  behind,  the  night 
In  silent  legions  troops  into  the  air.  — 
Masses  of  vision  overwhelm  me  thus: 
I  am  haunted  by  the  heavens  and  the  earth — 
130 


LAMMAS 

Darkness    and    light;    and    when    I    am 

addressed 

I  answer  from  the  point,  or  petulantly, 
Or  say  the  opposite  of  what  I  would, 
And    am    most    awkward,    helpless,    and 

forlorn. 

Wherefore  I  shun  the  company  of  men, 
Not  fearing  them,  but  fearful  of  myself; 
Surely  to  strive  to  please  and  still  to  fail 
Is  to  be  wretched  in  the  last  degree. 

SANDY 
Then   do   not   strive   to   please:  contemn 

contempt, 
And  trust  yourself. 

NlNIAN 

But  I  mistrust  myself: 
A  word,  a  glance,  a  cloud,  a  beam  of  light, 
A  perfume  from  its  orbit  shakes  my  soul. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

This  weakness   comes   because   you   look 
without. 

NlNIAN 

I  look  without:    you   look   within:    what 

then? 

You  are  possessed ;  I,  obsessed  :  that  is  all. 
I  am  besieged  by  things  that  I  have  seen : 
Followed  and  watched  by  rivers ;  snared  and 

held 

In  labyrinthine  woods  and  tangled  meads ; 
Hemmed  in  by  mountains ;  waylaid  by  the 

sun; 

Environed  and  beset  by  moon  and  stars ; 
Whispered  by  winds  and  summoned  by  the 

sea. 

HERBERT 

What  do  you  note  now? 
132 


LAMMAS 

NlNIAN 

By  a  Kentish  road, 
Across    the    down   where   poles   in  ricks 

repose, 

Delivered  from  the  burden  of  the  bines, 
And  golden  apples  on  their  twisted  boughs 
Illumine  ancient  orchards,  I  descend, 
Watching  and  wondering  to  the  Medway's 

bank. 

The  alder  and  the  hazel  dip  their  leaves ; 
The  grass-green  willow  shakes ;  the  spiny 

thorn, 
Embossed  and   lustrous  with  its  load   of 

haws, 

Shines  in  the  water  like  a  burning  bush ; 
And  broad  and  deep,  muttering  outlandish 

things, 
The  heavy  river  rolls  its  umber  flood. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Convolvuluses  overhang  the  brink, 
Pallid  or  watchet-hued,  and  still  as  bells 
That  in  a  trance  imagine  tuneful  chimes 
Of  virtue  to  enchant  a  moonlit  mere. 
On  river  lawns  with  emerald  velvet  spread 
The  ewes  sedately  browse  the  three-piled 

nap. 

A  distant  clang  of  shouts  and  laughter  rings 
Across  the  valley  from  the  gleaming  tents 
Of  sunburnt  hoppers  at  their  evening  meal ; 
And  fainter  voices  from  the  roadside  inn 
Echo  about  the  air,  and  dwell  and  die. 
Crowned   by   the  yellow   oasthouse   from 

whose  cowl 
Banners  and  scarfs  of  fleecy  smoke  hang 

out, 
And  busked  with  serried,  tawny-clustered 

vines, 


LAMMAS 

Far-reaching  slopes  lean  up  along  the  sky. 
The  drowsy  wind  touches  a  fitful  stop ; 
The  Medway  mutters  dreaming  as  it  rolls ; 
In   bronzing   brakes  and   thickets  deeply 

choired 

Autumnal  tokens  birds  at  leisure  pipe ; 
While  the  sun,  shut  within  a  donjon  high 
Of  massive  cloud,  through  secret  loopholes 

flings 

His  moted  beams  that  quiver  visibly 
Broadcast;  or  seem  ethereal  lances,  stacked 
By  the  celestial  watchmen  who  patrol 
The  world   at  night,  and   on  their  silent 

rounds 
Move  to  the  ghostly  music  of  the  spheres. 

HERBERT 
And  whence  comes  this  obsession? 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

NlNIAN 

Hark !  Behold ! 

The  floor  is  flooded  with  the  tide.     I  lounge 
Upon  a  shingle  bolster.     Dimly  seen 
Beyond  the  weathergleam  a  pennon'd  mast, 
A  drift  of  smoke,  hover  and  disappear ; 
And  in  the  midst  dark  sails  of  mackerel 

boats 

Over  a  reach  of  water,  brown  as  tan, 
Dance,  deftly  tripping  the  uneven  waves. 
Nearer,  a  yellow  width  unwinds ;  between, 
A  point  of  emerald  glows,  and  suddenly 
Shoots  out  and  burns  its  way  towards  the 

west  — 

A  spark  in  tinder,  then  a  stripe  of  fire, 
And  last  a  sheet  of  phosphorescent  green 
Fuming  with  white  waves.     Listen !  at  my 

feet 

136 


LAMMAS 

The  uplifted  shuddering  rollers  headlong 

fall, 

And  jangle  on  the  beach  as  the  surf  breaks 
In  silver  chains  and  shekels;  while  the  wind 
Out  of  the  southwest  sings  across  the  deep. 
Straightway  a  new  sky  makes  another  sea. 
Occultly  gifted,  light  upon  the  waves 
Juggles  with  hidden  beams  behind  a  cloud 
Bright  but  impenetrable.     Near  the  shore 
A  vein  of  saffron  shines ;  beyond,  a  band 
Of  olive  hue  blends  with  a  sapphire  zone; 
Further  away,  wine-coloured  water  heaves 
Against  a  high  sea-wall  of  swarthy  fog. 
Is  it  the  sea  that  gleams  in  merging  breadths 
Of  colour  dark  and  wet?    Or  do  the  powers, 
That  decorate  the  quarters  of  the  world, 
In  some  vast  crucible  dissolve  and  fuse 
Virginal  mines  of  ruby,  malachite, 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Jacinth  and  chrysoprase  to  pave  the  floor 
Of  ocean  rough  with  wrecks  and  skeletons? 
Nature  is  now  about  some  mystery ! 
But  while  I  watch,   ere    I    can    mark  the 

change, 
The   passionate   sun    flames    through   the 

shrivelled  cloud, 

And  all  the  crisp  and  curling  water  wakes, 
Blue  as  the  naked  sky  that  bathes  in  it. 

HERBERT 
How  does  it  happen  you  are  so  beset? 

NlNIAN 

I  shall  attempt  to  tell  you  honestly. 
It  was  engraven  deeply  on  my  mind 
In  daily  lessons  from  my  infancy 
Until  I  left  my  father's  house,  that  not 
Ability  and  knowledge,beauty  and  strength, 
138 


LAMMAS 

But  goodness  only  can  avail.     I  watched, 
And   thought  I    understood   that   beauty, 

strength 
And  knowledge  ought  to  reign,  they  being 

indeed 

The  trinity  of  goodness ;  but  I  claimed 
That  this  should  be  revealed  to  me,  that  I 
Should  be  directly  warned  by  God  Himself 
In  the  old  fashion.    Strange  it  seems ;  and 

yet 

It  was  not  very  strange.  Each  morn  and  eve, 
Year  after  year,  I  heard  the  prophets  read, 
Heard  strong  believing  prayer :  the  atmos- 
phere 

Was  not  allied  more  nearly  to  my  breath 
Than  to  my  mind  the  thought  of  God  — 

no  dream 
Of  deity ;  a  living,  active  God. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

On  hill-tops,  by  the  sea,  in  storm,  in  calm 
I  cried  to  Him  to  speak  to  me ;  with  tears 
Solicited  a  sign.     Sleepless  and  pale 
I  wandered  like  a  ghost,  and  day  and  night 
Waited  upon  a  message  from  on  high. 
Sunset  and  sunrise  came ;  the  seasons  past ; 
The  years  went  slowly  by ;    but  still  to  me 
The  universe  was  dumb.     Books  helped  me 

not, 

Except  for  pleasure  or  to  gain  command     ' 
Of  words :  I  would  have  God's  own  voice  or 

none. 

At  last  I  ceased  to  hope  and  found  content 
In  roaming  through  the  land.     The  magic 

sun 
Drew  pictures  on  my  sight.     Wondering  I 

watched ; 

Nor  could  the  secular  fairy  ever  change 
140 


LAMMAS 

My  wonder  into  curiosity. 

All  my  emotion  and  imagining 

Were  of  the  finest  tissue  that  is  woven 

From  sense  and  thought.    No  well-thumbed 

page  appeared 

In  the  hard  book  of  memory  when  I  woke : 
Amazed  I  trembled  newly  into  life : 
I  seemed  to  be  created  every  morn. 
A  golden  trumpet  pealed  along  the  sky : 
The  sun  arose ;  the  whole  earth  rushed  upon 

me. 

Sometimes  the  tree  that  stroked  my  window- 
pane 
Was  more  than  I  could  grasp ;    sometimes 

my  thought 

Absorbed  the  universe,  which  fell  away 
And  dwindled  from  my  ken,  as  if  my  mind 
Had  been  the  roomy  continent  of  space.  — 
141 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

My  way  of  life  led  me  to  London  town, 
And  difficulties  —  which  I  overcame, 
Equipped  with  patience  and  necessity. 
Then  suddenly  before  my  thoughts  might 

leap 

Resurgent  from  the  living  tomb  of  care 
And  dip  their  wings  in  dawn,  about  me 

clung 

The  slimy  folds  of  sin :  its  nether  coils 
Are  hidden  in  the  sepulchre  of  time, 
The  glutted  past ;  the  pallid  future  strains 
In  travail  with  its  fiery  eyes  and  fangs  : 
I  peer  from  out  the  slippery  middle  wreaths 
And  see  blurred  visions  of  the  world,  or 

watch 

The  flashing  scenes  that  haunt  my  memory. 
When  needfully  I  viewed  my  latter  days  — 
Considering  for  the  first  time  in  my  life 
142 


LAMMAS 

The  naked  facts  of  my  affairs  and  me  — 
I  found  that  underneath  indifference 
To  every  aim  saving  a  livelihood 
And  leisure  to  enjoy  nature  and  art, 
My  source  of  strength,  though  never  to 

myself 
Confessed    before,  had    been   the   lurking 

thought 

That  poison,  or  a  bullet,  or  the  waves 
Could  stop  the  unendurable  ecstasy 
Of  pain  or  pleasure,  at  whichever  pole 
Of  passion  I  determined  to  forsake 
The  orb  of  life,  on  my  acceptance  thrust 
In  ignorance  and  disregard  of  me, 
My  temperament  and  fitness  for  the  gift ; 
But  now  that  refuge  of  despair  is  shut, 
For   other  lives   have   twined   themselves 

with  mine. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  yet  .  .  .  How  shall  I  seize  you  with 

due  dread 

Of  the  offensive  tide  that  stifles  me, 
The  worm  obscene  in  whose  close  coils  I 

writhe?  .  .  , 

Now  I  conceive  it  clearly ;  you  shall  mark 
Fate's  way  with  me !     A  tedious   decade 

hence 

My  son  shall  come  and  pitifully  cry, 
'  Father,  why  am  I  weak,  outclassed,  out- 
cast? 

'  I  cannot  do  the  things  that  others  do ; 
'  I  take  no  place  in  work  or  play ;  my  brains 
'  Are  unelastic :   something  in  my  head 
'  Snaps  when  I  fain  would  study ;  visions 

rise 

'  Unsummoned ;    phantom   tongues    mum- 
ble strange  news ; 
144 


LAMMAS 

'  And  when  I  would  contend  in  games,  my 

bones 
'  Grow  pithless,  and  my  sinews  shrink ;  my 

heart !  — 

'  Who  wore  it  out  with  sensual  drudgery 
'Before  it  came  to  me?  what  warped  its 

valves  ? 

'  It  has  been  used :  my  heart  is  secondhand  ! 
'  Why  had  I  not  the  force  to  be  born  great, 
'  Fit  for  a  splendid  stage,  a  noble  part, 
'  A   crisis   in   the   world  ?     Why   must    I 

think 
'Such  things   at   seventeen?     Why  think 

at  all 
'When  love  should  lap  me  in  a  constant 

dream  ? 

'  I  have  no  faith  instinctive  in  myself; 
'  No  reservoir  profound  of  energy ; 
'45 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

'  No  fathomless  resource ;  no  central  fire ; 

'  No  passionate  aroma  in  my  blood 

'  Filling  the  world  with  fragrance  where  I 

come; 

'  No  rapt  imagination  to  transmute 
'  All  pallor  into  glory.     Life  you  gave : 
'  Where  is  my  birthright,  sir,  beauty  and 

strength  ? ' 
What  can  I  say  to  him  ? 

HERBERT       PERCY       SANDY 
The  truth ! 

NlNIAN 

This  then :  — 

'  My  son,  your  ancestors  supplanted  you  : 
4  You  are  my  child  ;  hence  are  your  teeth 

on  edge. 
'  Our  blood  is  stale ;  the  tree  from  which 

we  spring 

146 


LAMMAS 

'  Fades  at  the  top.     Two  of  our  family 
'  Have  died  insane  in  my  time :  one  I  saw 
'  Go   mad.     The   sounds   and   sights   that 

visit  you 

'  Attend  me  too,  foretellers  of  our  doom. 
'  The  ultimate  iniquity  is  mine ; 
'  But  from  a  root  in  distant  ages  sunk 
'  The  loathsome  filaments  entangle  you. 
4  And    I    impeach   the   smooth   conniving 

world, 
'  The  bland  accomplice  that  has  made  and 

makes 

'  A  merit  of  defect,  a  cult  of  woe, 
'  Sowing  exhausted  land  with  seed  that 's 

foul, 

'  To  harvest  tares  of  madness,  impotence, 
'  Uncomeliness  in  wasteful  granaries  — 
4 1  mean  asylums,  prisons,  hospitals. 
147 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

'  If  only  nineteen  hundred  years  ago 

'  A  gospel  of  the  pride  of  life  had  rung 

'  Our  doleful  era  in  ;   if  the  device 

'  In    nature's    choice    of    beauty   and   of 

strength 
'  Had  then  been  shown  to  man,  how  had 

the  world 

'  Approved  the  excellent  expedient, 
'  With  voluntary  euthanasia 
'  Weeded  humanity  at  once,  and  made 
'  A  race  of  heroes  in  a  golden  age  !  .  .  . 
'This  helps  not.     All  the  blame  is  mine, 

my  son, 
'  Who   never   should    have   been '  ...  It 

palsies  me; 
I    cannot    comfort    him;    he   stands    and 

stares 

Defeated  ere  he  was  begot.  —  Behold 
148 


LAMMAS 

The  ancient  snake  that  pinions  me  !     Like 

one 

Chained  to  a  column  in  a  turbid  stream, 
About  my  ears  a  sluggish  billow  flaps, 
And  chokes  and  daubs  me  with  its  ropy 

wash. 

SANDY 

Escape !     I   know  the   manner !     Live  at 

speed ; 
And   call   your  least  caprice   the   law  of 

God; 

Disdain  the  shows  of  things,  and  every  love 
Whose   stamen   is  not  hate;    self-centred 

stand ; 

Accept  no  second  thought ;  in  every  throb 
Your  heart  gives,  every  murmur  of  your 

mind, 

149 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Listen  devoutly  to  the  trump  of  doom. 
You  are  your  birthright ;  let  it  serve  you 

well: 
Be   your   own   star,  for   strength   is  from 

within, 
And  one  against  the  world  will  always  win  ! 

NlNIAN 

I  cannot  act.     The  subtle  coils  grow  tense, 
And  crush  my  limbs,  my  heart,  my  throat, 

my  head. 

I  am  the  sufferer,  the  endurer,  I. 
Yet  God,  who  gives  no  presage  hitherto, 
Haply  intends  hereafter  to  be  heard. 
I  am  not  thinking  solely  of  myself, 
But  of  the  groaning  cataract  of  life, 
The  ruddy  stream  that  leaps  importunate 
Out  of  the  night,  and  in  a  moment  vaults 


LAMMAS 

The   immediate  treacherous   precipice   of 

time, 
Splashing  the   stars,   downward   into  the 

night. 

Meanwhile  for  me  no  lulling  opiate, 
No  dream,  no  mystic  solvent :  I  must  watch 
Hopeless,  unhelped,  till  I  go  mad  or  die. 

HERBERT 
But  you  have  hope  and  help. 

NlNIAN 

I  ?     Show  me  them ! 

HERBERT 
You  went  forth  seeking  God  and  found  the 

world, 
The  sounds  and  sights  that  haunt,  and  help 

and  please. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  canopy  and  state  of  day  and  night : 
The   pageant  of  the  year;  the    changing 

moods, 

The  loyal  constancy  and  testament 
Of    Nature  —  her   asides,    her   hints,    and 

smiles, 

Her  clear  ideas  of  repose  and  toil, 
Her  covenant  and  noble  ministry 
Of  light  and  darkness,  and  of  life  and  death, 
Are  the  true   salve  for  your   distempered 

mind. 
Blame  not  yourself  too  much;  admit   no 

fear 

Of  madness  with  the  sunrise  in  your  blood ; 
And  hold  your  own  intelligence  in  awe 
As    the    most    high :    there   is    no   other 

God  — 

No  God  at  all ;  yet  God  is  in  the  womb  — 
152 


LAMMAS 

A  living  God,  no  mystic  deity. 
With  idols  in  its  infancy  the  world 
Deceived  itself  as  maidens  do  with  dolls, 
And  as  it  grew  pretended  and  believed 
That  what  it   should   bring  forth  already 

reigned. 

Now  is  its  hour  come,  but  it  only  knows 
The  sick  dismay  and  anguish,  ignorant 
Of  birth-pangs  and  an  offspring  more  divine 
Than  man  has  yet  imagined.    I  have  woes, 
As  you  and  all  men  have  in  their  degree ; 
So  let  us  think  we  are  the  tortured  nerves 
Of  Being  in  travail  with  a  higher  type. 
I  know  that  I  shall  crumble  back  to  dust, 
And  cease  for  evermore  from  sense  and 

thought, 

But  this  contents  me  well  in  my  distress :  — 
I,  being  human,  touch  the  highest  reach 
'53 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Attained  by  matter,  and  within  me  feel 

The  motion  of  a  loftier  than  I: 

Out  of  the  beast  came  man;  from  man 

comes  God. 

Deepest  delight  is  in  the  certainty 
That  to  the  all  pervading  element 
Wherein  the  universe  disports  a  while, 
Ethereal  oblivion,  my  deeds 
And  I  eternally  belong. 

NlNIAN 

Yes.  .  .  .  See, 
They  throng  the  room  !  —  no  spectres,  but 

themselves : 

Sibilant  depths  of  darkness ;   avenues 
Of  latticed   light;    ambrosial,  pine-strewn 

glades ; 

Ravines  and  waterfalls ;  the  grass-green  turf, 
Where  primroses  by  secret  alchemy 
154 


LAMMAS 

Distil  from  buried  treasure  golden  leaves, 
And  where  forget-me-nots  above  the  tombs 
Of    snow-drops    hang    their    candelabra, 

trimmed 

With  azure  light  —  turquoise  by  magic  roots 
Drawn  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth  and 

changed 

To  living  flame ;  roses,  laburnum,  lilac ; 
Sunrise  and  sunset  like  a  glowing  vice 
Blood-stained  that   grips  the  world ;    the 

restless  moon 
Swung  low  to  light  us ;  clouds ;  the  limpid 

sky; 
The    bourdon   of   the    great    ground-bee, 

athwart 

A  lonely  hill-side,  vibrant  on  the  air, 
And  subtler  than  the  scent  of  violets ; 
Sonorous  winds,  storm,  thunder,  and  the  sea. 


MICHAELMAS 


MICHAELMAS 

BASIL      HERBERT      BRIAN      SANDY      MENZIES 

HERBERT 
THE  farmer  roasts  his  stubble  goose. 

MENZIES 
The  pard  and  tiger  moths  are  loose. 

SANDY 

The  broom-pods  crackle  in  the  sun ; 
And  since  the  flowers  are  nearly  done, 
From  thymy  slopes  and  heather  hills, 
The  wearied  bee  his  pocket  fills. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BRIAN 
The  wearied  bee ! 

HERBERT 

On  ancient  walls 
The  moss  turns  greener. 

SANDY 

Hark !  St  Paul's 
Booms  midnight. 

BRIAN 
Basil  is  asleep. 

SANDY 
Boom,  iron  tongue  !  boom,  slow  and  deep  ! 

MENZIES 

The  berries  on  the  hawthorn  tree 
Are  red  as  blood. 

1 60 


MICHAELMAS 

BRIAN 
The  wearied  bee ! 

HERBERT 

In  Devon  cider-presses  flow, 
And  lads  and  lasses  nutting  go. 

BASIL 
Twelve    notes    the    bell-voiced    midnight 

pealed ; 
The  moon  stood  still ;  the  wan  stars  reeled. 

BRIAN 
Lord  !  Basil,  are  you  off  your  head  ? 

BASIL 

The  opening  knell  had  awakened  me ; 
The  twelve  rang  out  a  lullaby. 

BRIAN 

What  passion's  this?  whose  mare  is  dead? 
ii  161 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

Fie,  Brian  !     Let  him  say  his  say, 
Begin  again  and  fire  away. 

BASIL 

I  started  from  uneasy  slumber, 

And    heard    night's    stately    tongue   o'er- 

number 

Twelve  measured  beats.   While  rang  the  last 
I  slept  again ;  but  ere  it  passed 
In  still-attenuating  sound 
I  wakened  from  that  sudden  swound. 
A  dream  begotten  by  the  bell 
Was  born  within  its  lingering  knell. 
The  deep  reverberation  clung 
About  my  spirit ;  anguish  wrung 
My  flesh ;  the  mortal  veil  was  rent ; 
And  from  the  world's  imprisonment, 
162 


MICHAELMAS 

And  out  of  penitential  Time 
I  soared  into  a  ransomed  clime. 
The  air  was  balmier  than  the  west 
That  bends  the  barley's  nodding  crest, 
When  happy  folk  the  greenwood  seek, 
And  summer  roasts  the  apple's  cheek. 
A  darkness  of  another  dye 
Than  earthly  night  o'erspread  the  sky 
If  any  heaven  were  heaved  on  high : 
The  only  light  that  guided  me 
My  soul's  enkindled  radiancy. 
The  splendour  that  my  spirit  threw 
Revealed  new  green,  new  golden  dew, 
Wherein  I  saw  new  flowers  encamp : 
They  glimmered  in  my  silvery  lamp 
Like  gems  in  an  illumined  grot : 
I  glided  on;  my  light  waned  not; 
Fresh  wonders  peered  forth  as  I  passed ; 
163 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Without  me  brooded  darkness  vast. 
Among  the  branches  of  the  trees 
That  trembled  to  the  fingering  breeze, 
And  far  more  softly  sang  and  sighed 
Than  soft  y£olian  harps,  I  spied 
Looks  brighter  than  the  liquid  gold 
That  streams  before  the  peal  has  rolled. 
Notes  sweeter  than  the  nightingale's, 
More  piercing  than  the  lowly  rail's, 
And  wealthier  than  the  gorgeous  chime 
The  mocking-bird  at  coupling  time 
Re-rings  again  and  o'er  and  o'er 
In  changes  richer  than  before, 
With  ruffling  throat  and  spiral  motion  — 
The  vortex  of  a  whirling  ocean, 
Whose  floods  are  seething  music  waves 
Outwelling  from  his  heart's  glad  caves  — 
Surged  and  re-surged  about  my  sense, 
164 


MICHAELMAS 

That  revelled  in  their  vehemence. 

A  blackness  then  waylaid  my  soul, 

Intense,  unfrayed,  a  perfect  whole : 

My  beams  could  not  irradiate 

This  ebon  front,  this  cloudy  gate. 

Far  up  I  saw  a  shimmer  dim, 

Like  that  above  a  night-cloud's  rim, 

Left  trailing  by  the  long-sunk  sun, 

When  half  the  summer-time  is  done : 

It  coped  the  high-reared  dense  black  blind : 

I  wondered  what  might  be  behind ; 

But  when  I  pressed  no  step  might  be, 

And  yet  between  the  wall  and  me 

The  strange  sward  flower-strewn  I  could  see. 

Soon  sang  a  voice ;  and,  strange  to  tell, 
It  was  my  own  voice  singing  well 
A  new  song  that  I  cannot  mind ; 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Vanished  at  once  the  dense  black  blind ; 
Far,  wide,  a  rainbow  heaven  of  light 
Clouded  a  while  my  silly  sight. 

I  saw  a  sky  of  purple  gloom, 
That  glowed  as  from  a  Tyrian  loom, 
And  blushing  hills  perfumed  with  heath, 
And  flower-decked  valleys  hung  beneath, 
Where  water  purled  a  signal  noise, 
Melodious,  like  an  angel's  voice. 
And  there  were  forests  great  and  old, 
The  carpet  of  whose  fertile  mould 
Was  woven  of  ferns  and  lustrous  flowers ; 
And  caves  were  there  and  pleasant  bowers : 
And  rocks,  immortally  undressed, 
That  shone  through  many  a  loose  green  vest 
And  in  the  sky,  and  on  the  hills, 
And  through  the  woods,  and  by  the  rills, 
1 66 


MICHAELMAS 

A  host  of  lights  of  every  hue 

And  every  shape  lit  up  the  view. 

Some  shone  with  blood-streaked  glow  of 

green 

Like  jasper ;  the  carnation  sheen 
Of  sardonyx  beamed  bright  and  pale ; 
And  like  a  maiden's  finger-nail 
The  hue  of  chalcedony  gleamed ; 
And  some  pale  blue  like  jacinth  seemed ; 
And  there  were  flames  like  chrysolites, 
And  rubies  —  gems  that  love  delights 
Beside  the  well-loved  lips  to  shame ; 
And  there  was  many  an  emerald  flame ; 
And  topazes  and  sapphires  came, 
And  smouldering  amethystine  hues, 
Like  purple  grapes  where  lights  infuse 
A  glow  of  garden  violets, 
Or  women's  eyes  love's  sweet  dew  wets. 
167 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  flaming  shapes  for  ever  changed 
As  fixed  they  hung  or  widely  ranged. 
Like  meteors  some  wide  heaven  spanned ; 
Like  wisps  some  shot  about  the  land ; 
And  others  moved  their  scrolls  and  curls, 
Like  waving  skirts  where  lovely  girls 
Evolve  from  mazy  minstrelsy 
A  moving  silk-draped  melody, 
Dancing  at  the  bridal-feast 
Of  some  grand  monarch  of  the  east. 
Transcending  in  magnificence, 
In  beauty,  and  in  eloquence 
Of  movement,  and  in  variance 
Of  shapely  forms,  and  in  the  dance 
The  loftiest  height  with  poise  of  state 
Maintaining  easily,  elate 
Above  the  others  sailing  far, 
Now  beaming  like  an  opal  star, 
1 68 


MICHAELMAS 

Now  like  the  rainbow's  shifting  bridge 
Wheeling  from  mountain  ridge  to  ridge, 
And  now  expanding  like  the  dawn, 
Now  like  the  northern  lights,  there  shone 
A  glorious  flame ;  and  one  bright  form, 
As  grand  in  motion  as  a  storm, 
Exceeded  symmetry.     I  knew 
What  these  two  were ;  but  memory  grew 
A  jumbled  chaos  when  I  hoped 
To  seize  their  names.     While  yet  I  groped 
Within  the  darkened  lumber-room 
Of  memory,  a  sound  did  loom 
Upon  my  hearing,  which  till  then 
Had  been  a  hollow  empty  den, 
Its  sense  being  stolen  into  my  sight 
To  give  it  power  to  grasp  the  light. 
Eftsoons  the  looming  sound,  evolved 
Whence  I  perceived  not  then,  resolved 
169 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Its  misty  volume  into  dew, 
That  rose  and  fell  and  rose  anew, 
And  showering  gently  seemed  to  bear 
Odours  from  Cytherea's  hair, 
Or  from  the  thousand  flowers  that  please 
The  vigilant  Hesperides 
Within  their  bower  on  Atlas'  top, 
Whose  shoulders  huge  the  heavens  prop, 
So  dulcet  was  the  harmony.  . 
It  rained  into  my  memory, 
And,  freshening  that  fallow  mead, 
Awakened  many  a  sleeping  seed 
That  sprang  and  blossomed  into  flower, 
A  bell  for  every  happy  hour. 
But  yet  my  wakening  intuition 
That  longed  to  execute  its  mission, 
To  call  those  two  supremest  flames, 
Bloomed  not  in  flower  of  their  names. 
170 


MICHAELMAS 

Oh  me  !  that  airy  melody  ! 
Its  memory  distresses  me, 
Like  old  men's  thoughts  of  love's  first  kiss, 
Like  damned  imaginings  of  bliss. 
No  thrilling  movement  with  me  stays ; 
The  shadow  of  one  subtle  phrase 
Cools  not  the  burning  of  desire ; 
Tears  cannot  quench  that  ardent  fire ; 
So  sweet  and  low  the  voices  sung, 
So  deep  and  high  the  singing  swung, 
Or,  like  the  bird  of  heaven,  hung 
In  joyous  swoon,  on  brooding  wing 
Intensely,  stilly,  hovering. 
Then  far  away  across  the  vale 
A  sapphire  sea  with  ripples  pale 
I  saw :  the  golden,  further  shore 
A  group  of  wan  lights  wandered  o'er 
Hueless  and  shadowy :  and  I  thought 
171 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

That  those  the  airy  music  wrought. 
Sudden  a  great  globe  brimmed  my  sight, 
And  all  my  senses  took  their  flight 
To  it  to  make  it  capable ; 
I  was  one  eye  and  it  was  full, 
But  can  a  brazier  hold  the  sun, 
Or  any  cup  the  ocean? 

MENZIES 

None. 

BASIL 

This  splendour,  now  in  mist  diffused, 
Hung  like  a  cloud  of  diamond-dust; 
Contracted  to  a  point  anon, 
It  still  so  luminously  shone 
Its  dense  light  could  be  seen  alone. 
I  was  one  eye,  one  questioning  gaze : 
At  once  the  scintillating  haze 
172 


MICHAELMAS 

In  answer  to  my  inquisition 
Appeared  as  two ;  and  each  division 
A  shadowy  human  outline  carried, 
Less  bright  divided  than  when  married. 
Then  straight  the  black  gulf  hung  between 
My  aching  sight  and  heaven's  scene. 

BRIAN 
But  this  is  nonsense  triple-piled. 

HERBERT 
Is  nonsense  then  to  be  reviled? 

MENZIES 

Not  so ;  for  fancy  where  it  lists 
Breathes  like  the  wind :  he  who  resists 
His  wanton  moods  for  ever,  ends 
In  being  moodless. 

173 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 
BASIL 

Good,  my  friends, 

Forgive,  forget.     The  dream  was  long, 
Too  long.  —  Let  some  one  sing  a  song. 

MENZIES 
Your  bass  is  rusty,  Herbert ;  come. 

HERBERT 
I  '11  sing  a  song  of  Harvest-home. 

SONG 

The  frost  will  bite  us  soon ; 

His  tooth  is  on  the  leaves : 
Beneath  the  golden  moon 

We  bear  the  golden  sheaves : 
We  care  not  for  the  winter's  spite, 
We  keep  our  Harvest-home  to-night. 
174 


MICHAELMAS 

Hurrah  for  the  English  yeoman  ! 

Fill  full ;  fill  the  cup  ! 
Hurrah !  he  yields  to  no  man ! 

Drink  deep ;  drink  it  up  ! 

The  pleasure  of  a  king 

Is  tasteless  to  the  mirth 
Of  peasants  when  they  bring 

The  harvest  of  the  earth. 
With  pipe  and  tabor  hither  roam 
All  ye  who  love  our  Harvest-home. 
Hurrah  for  the  English  yeoman  ! 

Fill  full;  fill  the  cup! 
Hurrah  !  he  yields  to  no  man ! 
Drink  deep ;  drink  it  up ! 

The  thresher  with  his  flail, 
The  shepherd  with  his  crook, 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  milkmaid  with  her  pail, 

The  reaper  with  his  hook  — 
To-night  the  dullest-blooded  clods 
Are  kings  and  queens,  are  demigods. 
Hurrah  for  the  English  yeoman  ! 

Fill  full ;  fill  the  cup  ! 
Hurrah !  he  yields  to  no  man ! 
Drink  deep ;  drink  it  up ! 


176 


ALL  HALLOW'S  EVE 


12 


177 


ALL  HALLOW'S  EVE 

BASIL  MENZIES  BRIAN  PERCY 

BRIAN 
TEARFULLY  sinks  the  pallid  sun. 

MENZIES 
Bring  in  the  lamps :  Autumn  is  done. 

PERCY 

Nay,  twilight  silvers  the  flashing  drops ; 
And  a  whiter  fall  is  behind. 

BRIAN 

And  the  wild  east  mouths  the  chimney-tops, 
The  Pandean  pipes  of  the  wind. 
179 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 
The  dripping  ivy  drapes  the  walls ; 

The  drenched  red  creepers  flare ; 
And  the  draggled  chestnut  plumage  falls 

In  every  park  and  square. 

PERCY 

Nay,  golden  garlands  strew  the  way 
For  the  old  triumph  of  decay. 

BASIL 
And  I  know,  in  a  living  land  of  spells  — 

In  an  excellent  land  of  rest, 
Where  a  crimson  fount  of  sunset  wells 

Out  of  the  darkling  west  — 

That  the  poplar,  the  willow,  the  scented 

lime, 

Full-leaved  in  the  shining  air 
180 


ALL  HALLOW'S  EVE 

Tarry  as  if  the  enchanter  time 
Had  fixed  them  deathless  there. 

In  arbours  and  noble  palaces 

A  gallant  people  live 
With  every  manner  of  happiness 

The  amplest  life  can  give. 

PERCY 
Where?  where?    In  Elfland? 

MENZIES 

No ;  oh  no  ! 
In  Elfland  is  no  rest, 
But  rumour  and  stir  and  endless  woe 

Of  the  unfulfilled  behest  — 
The  doleful  yoke  of  the  Elfin  folk 
Since  first  the  sun  went  west. 
181 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  cates  they  eat  and  the  wine  they  drink, 

Savourless  nothings  are ; 
The  hopes  they  cherish,  the  thoughts  they 
think 

Are  neither  near  nor  far ; 
And  well  they  know  they  cannot  go 

Even  to  a  desert  star : 

One  planet  is  all  their  poor  estate, 
Though  a  million  systems  roll ; 

They  are  dogged  and  worried,  early  and  late, 
As  the  demons  nag  a  soul, 

By  the  moon  and  the  sun,  for  they  never 

can  shun 
Time's  tyrannous  control. 

The  haughty  delicate  style  they  keep 
Only  the  blind  can  see ; 
182 


ALL  HALLOW'S  EVE 

On  holynights  in  the  forest  deep, 
When  they  make  high  revelry 

Under  the  moon,  the  dancing  tune 
Is  the  wind  in  a  cypress  tree. 

They  burn  the  elfin  midnight  oil 

Over  their  tedious  lore ; 
They  spin  the  sand  ;  and  still  they  toil 

Though  their  inmost  hearts  are  sore  - 
The  doleful  yoke  of  the  restless  folk 

For  ever  and  evermore. 

But  could  you  capture  the  elfin  queen 
Who  once  was  Caesar's  prize, 

Daunt  and  gyve  her  with  glances  keen 
Of  unimpassioned  eyes, 

And  hear  unstirred  her  magic  word, 
And  scorn  her  tears  and  sighs, 
183 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Lean  would  she  seem  at  once,  and  old ; 

Her  rosy  mouth  decayed ; 
Her  heavy  tresses  of  living  gold, 

All  withered  in  the  braid ; 
In  your  very  sight  the  dew  and  the  light 

Of  her  eyes  would  parch  and  fade ; 

And  she,  the  immortal  phantom  dame, 
Would  vanish  from  your  ken ; 

For  the  fate  of  the  elves  is  nearly  the  same 
As  the  terrible  fate  of  men : 

To  love ;  to  rue ;  to  be  and  pursue 
A  flickering  wisp  of  the  fen. 

We  must  play  the  game  with  a  careless  smile, 
Though  there  's  nothing  in  the  hand  ; 

We  must  toil  as  if  it  were  worth  our  while 
Spinning  our  ropes  of  sand ; 
184 


ALL  HALLOWS  EVE 

And  laugh  and  cry,  and  live  and  die 
At  the  waft  of  an  unseen  wand. 

But  the  elves,  besides  the  endless  woe 

Of  the  unfulfilled  behest, 
Have  only  a  phanton  life,  and  so 

They  neither  can  die  nor  rest  — 
Have  no  real  being  at  all,  and  know 

That  therefore  they  never  can  rest  — 
The  doleful  yoke  of  the  deathless  folk 

Since  first  the  sun  went  west 

PERCY 

Then  where  is  the  wonderful  land  of  spells, 
Where  a  crimson  fount  of  sunset  wells, 
And  the  poplar,  the  willow,  the  scented  lime 
Tarry,  full-leaved,  till  the  winter-time, 
Where  endless  happiness  life  can  give, 
And  only  heroic  people  live? 
185 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BASIL 

We  know,  we  know,  we  spinners  of  sand ! 
In  the  heart  of  the  world  is  that  gracious 

land; 

And  it  never  can  fade  while  the  sap  returns, 
While  the  sun  gives  light,  and  the  red  blood 

burns. 


186 


QUEEN   ELIZABETH'S  DAY 


187 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

BASEL  SANDY  MENZIES 

BASIL 

A  NOBLE  fog !     Though  I 
Were  comfortably  dead, 
Shrouded  and  buried  deep 
In  my  last  bed, 
Tucked  in  for  my  long  sleep, 
Where  generations  lie, 
I  scarce  were  more  at  ease 
Than  now  I  feel  beneath 
This  heavy-laden  silent  atmosphere. 
189 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

A  kraken  of  the  skies  !     Its  teeth 
Are  closing  in  my  throat ; 
A  lithe  arm  rummages 
Each  aching  lung. 

SANDY 

We  dote 

On  your  disaster,  Menzies.     Here, 
Like  people  of  Pompeii, 
Or  like  Saharan  denizens, 
Sitting  for  centuries 
O'erwhelmed  with  sand  or  lava,  we 
Are  quite  at  home  in  fogs  like  these. 

BASIL 

And  feel  as  if  our  tongues  and  pens 
Had  wagged  and  scrawled  since  Arthur's 
time; 

190 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

And  we  had  seen  the  best  and  worst 

Of  England's  youth  and  England's  prime  ; 

As  if  this  day  might  be  the  first 

Day  of  Elizabeth  — 

Or  any  day :  the  dead,  like  God, 

Breathing  eternal  breath, 

Can  be  in  any  period. 

MENZIES 

Alas,  I  cannot  but  remember 
That  this  is  London  in  November ! 

BASIL 

Be  out  of  London;  off! 
Command  your  soul ;  away 
Where  woods  their  wardrobes  doff 
To  give  the  wind  free  play. 
Brocaded  oak-trees  wait, 
191 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Reluctant  to  undress ; 

But  the  woods  accept  from  Fate 

Their  lusty  nakedness, 

And  with  a  many-armed  caress 

Welcome  their  stormy  mate. 

SANDY 

Or  where  on  rivers  blacken 
Close  fleets  of  hurrying  leaves. 

BASIL 

Or  where  with  tawny  bracken 
A  lonely  moorland  heaves. 

SANDY 

Where  ribbed  and  spiny  hedges 
Hold  fast  the  empty  ear. 
192 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

BASIL 

Or  where  like  summer's  pledges 
The  ruddy  hips  appear. 

SANDY 
Where  coal-black  brambles  shimmer. 

BASIL 

Where  in  the  naked  copse, 
Gems  in  a  charnel,  glimmer 
The  nightshade's  coral  drops. 

SANDY 

Or  where  in  twilight  shaws 
The  dusky-glowing  thorn 
Hides  in  its  hoard  of  haws 
The  crimson  of  the  morn. 
13  J93 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 
BASIL 

Where  earth  beholds  the  skies, 
Or  heaven  looks  on  the  sea, 
Or  where  great  mountains  rise, 
Command  your  soul  to  be. 

MENZIES 

I  may  not ;  all  my  brains 

Are  baked  and  dried ;  my  veins 

Shrunk  and  unflushed. 

BASIL 

Drink  wine. 

MENZIES 

It  steads  not ;  moods  like  mine 
Must  run  their  courses  out ; 
Nothing  can  put  to  rout 
My  gloom  when  I  have  swilled 
194 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

Life's  sadness  to  the  lees ; 
Nepenthe  may  not  ease, 
Or  nectar,  heaven-distilled. 

SANDY 

Basil,  tell  us,  pray, 
Why  you  called  the  day 
After  the  maiden  queen? 

BASIL 

Three  centuries  away 
The  child  of  Anne  Boleyn 
Came  to  the  English  throne 
Upon  this  very  day. 

MENZIES 

Ah  !  what  a  splendid  age ! 
Then  England's  hope  was  high ; 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

The  world  was  half  unknown ; 
And  heaven  and  hell  were  nigh. 
On  such  a  glorious  stage 
I  could  have  played  a  part 
With  other  souls  devout: 
But  the  world  is  now  a  mart, 
And  all  the  earth  found  out. 
Hesperia  is  no  more  ! 
From  Himalayan  vales 
Our  fathers  sought  its  shore, 
And  lit  on  isles  and  dales 
Of  Greece  and  Arcady ; 
But  soon  they  set  their  sails 
Sadly  across  the  sea, 
And  came  to  .^Etna's  base ; 
Yet  by  Sicilian  ways 
No  dragon-guarded  tree 
With  golden  apples  grew. 
196 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

Undauntedly  they  passed 
The  Tyrrhene  waters  blue, 
And  reached  the  Iberian  strand 
Hesperia  at  last ! 
Not  there  the  promised  land. 
Westward  that  vision  old 
Fled  o'er  the  Atlantic  main 
To  sink  for  ever,  slain 
By  Californian  gold. 

BASIL 

This  is  the  promised  land ; 
God  saw  that  it  was  good : 
You  fail  to  understand 
That  the  world  is  but  a  mood, 
And  time  ours  to  command. 
This  is  the  hour  of  doom, 
Or  this  creation's  morn 
197 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

Or  Calvary's  day  of  gloom : 
We  die  not ;  were  not  born. 

MENZIES 

Ah,  you  anachronists ! 
You  poets  !     It  is  you, 
With  mellow  purple  mists, 
That  shade  the  dreary  view 
Of  life,  a  naked  precipice 
Overhanging  death's  deep  sea. 

SANDY 

Anachronists  !     I  rest  on  this, 
Whoe'er  may  count  it  schism : 
Mere  by-blows  are  the  world  and  we, 
And  time  within  eternity 
A  sheer  anachronism. 
198 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

BASIL 
A  bull !  a  thundering  bull ! 

MENZIES 

But  not  a  blundering  one; 
For  Chance  directs  the  sun, 
And  Faith  is  Fortune's  fool. 
The  world  was  scarcely  made 
Ere  Chance  began  its  trade 
And  changed  to  frozen  poles 
And  spaces  tropic-bound 
What  Fate  created  good  ; 
And  soulless  or  with  souls 
Beasts  grew  each  other's  food  : 
With  floods  all  flesh  was  drowned  ; 
And  foul  diseases  came ; 
Earth  issued  forth  in  flame, 
199 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  swallowed  cities  up ; 
Peoples  and  languages, 
Kingdoms  and  hierarchies, 
With  wars  and  tortures  rose : 
Nay,  our  most  bitter  cup 
For  ever  overflows 
With  rich  and  poor  alone : 
Chance  has  always  spurned 
Our  struggles  to  atone. 
Lo,  in  the  simplest  thing 
The  good  is  overturned, 
Fate  set  aside  with  scorn  ! 
The  air  is  clear  and  sweet ; 
But  the  fog  is  in  the  street : 
In  June  the  squares  were  green, 
What  dreary  places  now ! 
Ere  we  may  greet  the  spring, 
Must  winter  come  again ; 
200 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

And  man  may  not  be  born 
Without  a  woman's  pain. 

BASIL 

But  God  has  no  machine 
For  punching  perfect  worlds  from  cakes  of 
chaos. 

SANDY 
How! 

BASIL 

He  works  but  as  He  can ; 
God  is  an  artist,  not  an  artisan. 
Darkly  imagining, 
With  ice  and  fire  and  storm, 
With  floods  and  earthquake-shocks 
He  gave  our  sphere  its  form. 
The  meaning  of  His  work 
Grew  as  He  wrought. 

201 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

In  creases  of  the  mud,  in  cooling  rocks 

He  saw  ideas  lurk  — 

Mountains  and  streams. 

Of  life  the  passionate  thought 

Haunted  His  dreams. 

At  last  He  tried  to  do 

The  thing  He  dreamt. 

With  plasm  in  throbbing  notes, 

With  moss  and  ferns  and  giant  beasts  un- 
kempt 

He  laboured  long,  until  at  length  He  seemed 

To  breathe  out  being.    Flowers  and  forests 
grew 

Like  magic  at  His  word :    mountain  and 
plain, 

Jungle  and  sea  and  waste, 

With    miracles    of    strength    and    beauty 
teemed : 

202 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

In  every  drop  and  every  grain, 
Each  speck  and  stain, 
Was  some  new  being  placed, 
Minute  or  viewless.    Then  was  He  aghast, 
And  all  His  passion  to  create  grew  tame ; 
For  life  battened  on  life.     He  thought 
To  shatter  all ;  but  in  a  space 
He  loved  His  work  again  and  sought 
To  crown  it  with  a  sovereign  grace ; 
And  soon  the  great  idea  came : 
'  If  I  could  give  my  work  a  mind ; 
'  If  I  could  make  it  comprehend 
'  How  wondrously  it  is  designed ; 
'  Enable  it  with  head  and  heart 
'  To  mould  itself  to  some  accomplished  end, 
4  That  were  indeed  transcendent  art' 
Trembling  with  ecstasy  He  then  made  man, 
To  be  the  world's  atonement  and  its  prince. 
203 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

And  in  the  world  God  has  done  nothing 

since : 

He  keeps  not  tinkering  at  a  finished  plan ; 
He  is  an  artist,  not  an  artisan. 

MENZIES 

I  Ve  heard  it  sung,  I  Ve  heard  it  said, 

I  Ve  read  it  oft  in  many  books, 

That  truth 's  as  long  as  it  is  broad. 

I  like  your  dilettante  God  : 

When  man  His  work  has  perfected, 

Straight  God  will  blot  it  out  again, 

Or  change  it  to  a  sterile  moon, 

Upon  whose  past  shall  speculate 

Star-gazers  from  some  brand-new  land-and- 

sea. 

And  why  should  mortal  man  complain 
Although  no  memory  shall  be 
204 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  DAY 

Of  all  the  millions  of  his  race, 

Who  broke  brave  hearts  still  fronting  Fate ; 

Although  no  rumour  of  Helen's  looks, 

Although  no  Caesar's  name  of  note, 

No  mellow  word  that  Shakespeare  wrote, 

No  echo  of  Wagner's  spheral  tune, 

Shall  sound  in  any  nook  of  space? 

God  is  an  artist,  and  all  art 

Is  useless,  other  artists  say. 

SANDY 

If  God  is  art  and  art  is  God, 
I  fear  I  don't  believe  in  God. 

BASIL 

That  matters  not,  since  this  is  true  — 
Hear  me  before  you  go  away, 
And  turn  this  over  in  your  heart  — 
That  God  Himself  believes  in  you. 
205 


CHRISTMAS   EVE 


207 


CHRISTMAS   EVE 

BASIL  SANDY  BRIAN  MENZIES 

SANDY 

IN  holly  hedges  starving  birds 
Silently  mourn  the  setting  year. 

BASIL 

Upright  like  silver-plated  swords 
The  flags  stand  in  the  frozen  mere. 

BRIAN 

The  mistletoe  we  still  adore 

Upon  the  twisted  hawthorn  grows. 
14  209 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

MENZIES 

In  antique  gardens  hellebore 

Puts  forth  its  blushing  Christmas  rose. 

SANDY 

Shrivelled  and  purple,  cheek  by  jowl, 
The  hips  and  haws  hang  drearily. 

BASIL 

Rolled  in  a  ball  the  sulky  owl 
Creeps  far  into  his  hollow  tree. 

BRIAN 

In  abbeys  and  cathedrals  dim 
The  birth  of  Christ  is  acted  o'er ; 

The  kings  of  Cologne  worship  Him, 
Balthazar,  Jasper,  Melchior. 
210 


CHRISTMAS  EVE 

MENZIES 
And  while  our  midnight  talk  is  made 

Of  this  and  that  and  now  and  then, 
The  old  earth-stopper  with  his  spade 

And  lantern  seeks  the  fox's  den. 

SANDY 
Oh,  for  a  northern  blast  to  blow 

These  depths  of  air  that  cream  and  curdle  ! 

BASIL 

Now  are  the  halcyon  days,  you  know ; 
Old  Time  has  leapt  another  hurdle ; 

And  pauses  as  he  only  may 

Who  knows  he  never  can  be  caught. 

BRIAN 
The  winter  solstice,  shortest  day 

And  longest  night,  was  past,  I  thought. 
211 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

BASIL 
Oh  yes  !   but  fore-and-aft  a  week 

Silent  the  winds  must  ever  be, 
Because  the  happy  halcyons  seek 

Their  nests  upon  the  sea. 

BRIAN 

The  Christmas-time  !  the  lovely  things 
That  last  of  it !  Sweet  thoughts  and  deeds  ! 

SANDY 

How  strong  and  green  old  legend  clings 
Like  ivy  round  the  ruined  creeds  ! 

MENZIES 
A  fearless,  ruthless,  wanton  band, 

Deep  in  our  hearts  we  guard  from  scathe, 
Of  last  year's  log,  a  smouldering  brand 

To  light  at  Yule  the  fire  of  faith. 

212 


CHRISTMAS  EVE 

BRIAN 

The  shepherds  in  the  field  at  night 

Beheld  an  angel  glory-clad, 
And  shrank  away  with  sore  affright. 

'  Be  not  afraid,'  the  angel  bade. 

'  I  bring  good  news  to  king  and  clown, 
'  To  you  here  crouching  on  the  sward  ; 

'  For  there  is  born  in  David's  town 
'  A  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord. 

'  Behold  the  babe  is  swathed,  and  laid 
'  Within  a  manger.'    Straight  there  stood 

Beside  the  angel  all  arrayed 
A  heavenly  multitude. 

'  Glory  to  God,'  they  sang ;  '  and  peace, 
'  Good  pleasure  among  men.' 
213 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 

The  wondrous  message  of  release, 
That  forged  another  chain ! 

BRIAN 
Nay,  nay ;  God  help  us  to  be  good ! 

BASIL 
Hush  !    hark !     Without ;    the  waits,  the 

waits ! 
With  brass  and  strings,  and  mellow  wood. 

MENZIES 
A  simple  tune  can  ope  heaven's  gates ! 

SANDY 
Slowly  they  play,  poor  careful  souls, 

With  wistful  thoughts  of  Christmas  cheer, 
Unwitting  how  their  music  rolls 
Away  the  burden  of  the  year. 
214 


CHRISTMAS  EVE 

BASIL 
And  with  the  charm,  the  homely  rune, 

To  early  moods  our  minds  incline, 
As  when  our  pulses  beat  in  tune 

With  all  the  stars  that  shine. 

MENZIES 
Oh,  cease  !  oh,  cease  ! 

BASIL 

Ay,  cease ;  and  bring 
The  wassail-bowl,  the  cup  of  grace. 

SANDY 
Pour  wine,  and  heat  it  till  it  sing. 

With  cloves  and  cardamoms  and  mace. 

BASIL 

And  frothed  and  sweetened  round  it  goes, 
The  while  we  drink  the  whole  world's 
health. 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

SANDY 
The   whole   world's   health!     But   chiefly 

those 
Who  grasp  the  whole  world's  power  and 

wealth. 

BRIAN 

I  drink  the  poor  in  spirit;  theirs 
Is  heaven's  kingdom. 

SANDY 

Theirs,  below, 
A  bursting  granary  of  tares, 
Derision,  contumely,  woe. 

BRIAN 
To  those  who  patiently  have  borne 

Sorrow ! 

SANDY 

May  joy  come  soon  instead  ! 
216 


CHRISTMAS  EVE 

I  drink  the  health  of  those  that  mourn 
And  never  can  be  comforted. 

BRIAN 
I  drink  the  meek. 

SANDY 

I  drink  their  foes, 

The  ruthless  heirs  of  all  the  earth  — 
The  knaves,  the  pushing  men,  and  those 
Who  claim  prerogatives  of  birth. 

BRIAN 

I  drink  the  merciful,  for  they 
Shall  mercy  gain. 

SANDY 

From  usurers? 

BRIAN 

The  pure  in  heart,  and  those  who  pray 
And  work  for  peace  when  faction  stirs, 
217 


FLEET  STREET  ECLOGUES 

I  drink ;  and  all  whom  men  condemn 

For  righteousness,  who  never  shrink 
From  persecution. 

SANDY 

Yes,  to  them ! 
To  every  sinner  too,  I  drink ! 

BASIL 
Hush !  hark !  the  waits,  far  up  the  street ! 

MENZIES 

A  new,  unearthly  charm  unfolds 
Of  magic  music  wild  and  sweet, 
Anomes  and  clarigolds ! 

THE  END 


218 


UC  SOUTHOTjreaONAL  UBRWY  FAQUTY 


A     000  050  984     4 


